The Outsiders, The Forgotten
by Brolliks
Summary: Kepla Rass, a headstrong gungan youth, is trained in the jedi arts. He and his master discover their roots in eachother's pasts..
1. Default Chapter Title

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# The Outsiders, The Forgotten

**Chapters Introduction - 5**

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**Kepla Rass, a headstrong gungan youth, is saved from a life of slavery and is trained in the ways of the living force. Destiny has him and his master discover a group of gungans whom vanished many years ago...**

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**The novel plays off in the remote Parowa System, in the depression years before the fall of the Old Republic and the rise of the Dark Empire.**   
  


*** 

**Because of it's length, this novel has been split into eight different uploads... Please read them in sequence!**   
  


***   
  


**About this story**

I am one of the few [sad / smart] people who actually liked The Phantom Menace more than the last three Star Wars episodes. After seeing it two times, I felt inspired to write a novel based on my impressions and improvisations to it. You are reading the product of many late nights typing, reading and a lot of coffee.   
  


*** 

The original "Outsider" is no longer available online. It's low-key, and IMHO, not worth reading, since the actual saga starts in the part you are reading right now. I'll mail Part 1 to those interested on special request only.   
  


***   
  


Part 2 is vastly different from Part 1, both in style, perspective and plot. Part 1 did tread over the Star Wars boundary, but only slightly... Part 2 breaks most every basic Star Wars rule there is, to my knowledge anyway.   
  


If you are a sworn Star Wars purist, or if you have an absolute incurable hatred for the gungan race, I recommend that you stop reading now... However, if you are open minded, and willing to see things from a slightly different perspective, read on!   
  


This is more a "Gungan Fic" than a "Jar Jar Fic". Jar Jar appears for the first time in Chapter 30 or so. Gungans, however, appear throughout and are portrayed as caring, loyal and courageous.   
  


This story is pro-gungan.   
  


Still, I firmly believe that people whom disliked Jar Jar in TPM _might_ enjoy reading this novel none the less. Binks is a deeper, more sophisticated character here than he was in TPM.   
  


***   
  


**Content Analysis**

This story is considerably more violent that both it's predecessor, and the Star Wars films. I honestly believe the violence to be justified and necessary for the sake of the plot. Rest assured, though, I didn't go over board. It's just realistic.   
  


This story contains a couple of nasty word, but they have all been ***** d out, so they should not pose such a big problem.   
  


***   
  


**Formal Disclaimer **

All original characters used in this novel are fictional. Neither of them are supposed to represent or portray anyone in the real world. All the original characters remain the property of the author, Jako Malan (aka Brolliks). You may use them in stories of your own, subject to asking and being granted permission by the author to do so.   
  


All original artwork and illustrations used in this story remains the property of Brian Reider. (Please contact him with any queries regarding this.)   
  


All Star Wars characters and concepts used in this story, remain the sole intellectual property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm (Ltd).   
  


This story may not be distributed for any form of compensation whatsoever.   
  


This story will only be allowed to exist, whilst Lucasfilm doesn't object to it. If it's existence is prohibited for whatever reason, you're privilege of reading / possessing / distributing it will void.   
  


***   
  


**Thanks to Brian Reider for the wonderful illustrations!**   
  


***   
  


**Special Thanks to the Following Test Readers**   
  


ILoveJarJar 

Wyrm 

Green Pepper 

Saba Li Anks 

Kris Chloroform 

Arachnida 

Mariana Malan 

Brian Reider   
  


***   
  


**Other Misc Notes**

_I've included musical "TAGs" throughout the story._ If you see something inside , it means that, if I had the time, money and legal rights to make a movie of this story, I could use that specific sound track at that specific point in time. I've included the track name, as well as the composer's name. It should be played lowly in the background and should be stopped when instructed to do so. Note : You are only allowed to listen to them if you have legally bought the CDs they come from.   
  


_English is my third language..._ Please excuse the odd spelling / grammar / dialect mistake!   
  


_I am neither Shakespeare nor George Lucas._ People expecting either may be in for a big disappointment. I wrote this story because I found it fun to write, and for no other reason.   
  


_If you like the story, please refer other people to this site._ The only appreciation I get for spending so many hours writing this story, is of people actually reading it.   
  


_Constructive criticisms and any other feedbacks are very welcome and would be greatly appreciated._ BUT NOTE : I am not interested in hearing how much you (unjustly) despise me because of something that I wrote about someone or something in the story. If you ignore this (very reasonable) request, your E-Mail will be ignored, too.   
  


If you find this story to be inspiration enough to draw a scene or character from it, PLEASE E-MAIL and let me know about it! I would love to see it, no matter how it looks.   
  


Any other comments, suggestions or anything else, please E-Mail me : [brolliks@hotmail.com][1]

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THE THEME / TITLE SONG OF THIS STORY IS 

Somehow, I'll Find My Way Home - Jon Anderson & Vangelis

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**Scrolling Epilogue (Part 1)**

Star Wars Fanfare - Robin Williams   
  


Almost sixteen years have passed since the Naboo people took their planet back from the clutches of the Trade Federation.   
  


A chain of runaway events had caused a major crash in the Federation stock market. 

This caused wide spread poverty across all the planets in the solar system.   
  


Desperate governments and individuals, unwilling to give up their luxurious ways of live, now resort to the highly illegal buying and selling of slaves to fill their pockets with credits...   
  


It is a time of bounty hunters, scavengers and opportunists.   
  


Small, primitive groups and races live in constant fear of heartless scavengers, abducting them from their home worlds and selling them on the black market as slaves.   
  


The gungans of Naboo are no exception.   
  


Fade Out Music And Pause It

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**Chapter 1 : The Problem**   
  


Queen Amidala leaps from her chair in anger, "Scavengers are taking over this planet, chancellor! We're all at great risk! The gungans are reporting more cases of abduction every day... Two of my best pilots have been shot down in the last month alone!"   
  


The queen sits down agonising, "The Naboo fleet and army is amongst the republic's most advanced, most prestigious... But they are only human, they are not able to patrol the entire planet every single moment of every single day!"   
  


The cool headed chancellor folds his fingers as he replies, "It is a grave concern, your majesty... But as you know, getting worked up about this won't solve any problems. The planetary surveillance system is almost operational..."   
  


The chancellor continues, "Once it's in place, you'll have total control over what goes on in the skies of Naboo, your majesty."   
  


"Sorry for my outburst, chancellor, but this is a serious matter..."   
  


The queen stares for a moment, "I fear that these intrusions have already damaged our frail relationships with Otha Gunga... The gungans have threatened to take the law into their own hands if these senseless abductions don't stop soon." 

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**Chapter 2 : The Last Escapade**   
  


It's early morning in the Naboo forest. A thick haze of fog lays heavily on the marsh green swamp surroundings. Twigs crack as several kaadu appear from the thicket. Fifty three dark gungan soldiers man them. In their hands they have power poles. Their cold eyes stare forward into the mist.   
  


One of the kaadu sniffs the air and bleats. The seated gungan lifts his hand, signalling his comrades to stop. The gungans look around nervously.   
  


There is a sudden shout from the woods, "NOW!" Blazing bolts of energy fly out of the fog! 

Ten gungans are killed instantly. They fall off their kaadu and onto the ground. A deep explosion and a shrill hissing tears the morning's silence. A thick green gas overwhelms the gungans and the kaadu. Some of them try to call for help, but they cannot fight the stinging intoxicant. They and their kaadu collapse as one.   
  


"Beta, take control!" a muffled voice orders. Twenty un-known soldiers with gas masks on appear from the brush.   
  


A group quickly disarms the gungans. Two of them wave landing lights. There is a deep thundering follows as large carrier moves overhead.   
  


They signal the carrier to land.   
  


The rumbling grows progressively louder as the ships lowers itself to the ground. It crushes the trees where it lands, close to the scene of the ambush.   
  


The scavengers don't speak to each other. They work in total silence, promptly dragging the gungans bodies aboard. They leave the power poles and kaadu laying on the cold soil.   
  


Somebody shouts, "All aboard!"   
  


The scavengers then march aboard themselves.   
  


The ship takes off, thundering.   
  


What seems to be moments later, a creepy silence ascends onto the forest as the ship speeds off under the cover of darkness.   
  


Apart from the crushed trees and the intoxicated kaadu, everything seems exactly as it was before ; sadly, real life just isn't that simple. 

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**Scrolling Epilogue (Part 2)**   
  


Un-Pause and Fade in SW Fanfare Once Again   
  


Many long years of struggle and strife pass as the recession reaches epidemic proportions. 

Queen Amidala had used every last drop of her precious financial resources to get the surveillance system up and running.   
  


Though the senseless abductions stopped immediately, the damage was already done.   
  


More than two-hundred gungans had been taken away from their home world.   
  


Despite all the Naboo's extensive searching efforts, they could not locate them.   
  


In time, they slowly started accepting the fact that they would never be seen again...   
  


Yet, somehow, all hope wasn't lost...   
  


Fade Out Music

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**Chapter 3 : Start of the Trouble**   
  


Three dark robed figures stand before a well dressed man sitting in a comfy chair at a large desk.   
  


The man is overweight and has a black patch over his right eye. He is Baron Ndi'Chro, one of one of the wealthiest beings outside of the republic. Nobody knows why he is so rich and influential... Some say he sells narcotics; some say he owns a large section fuel industry; some even says he is a slave merchant. Fact is, nobody knows for sure.   
  


He has a satisfactory grin on his face as he hands a bag of credits to each one of the assembled.   
  


The three bow simultaneously. Their faces are hidden inside their capes.   
  


One steps forward and speaks in a deep voice, "Master Ndi'Chro, as of late I sense something that endangers our entire campaign here."   
  


"What could it be Tranquillitates? You surely don't mean those boggers who escaped?" Ndi'Chro pauses and laughs mockingly, "My guards are already scouting the area... They don't have a chance in hell."   
  


Darth Tranquillitates looks at his comrades and continues, "It's not that master. I've come to fear that there's a being that is capable of exposing this entire operation."   
  


Ndi'Chro bursts out in sarcastic laughter. The three glare at each other and wait for him to finish.   
  


He clears his throat, "If that be the case... You get paid to protect this operation..."   
  


Ndi'Chro's voice suddenly becomes serious as he continues, "You know what to do... go out and kill him, her or it immediately!"   
  


One of the other step forward and speaks, "Tranquillitates has volunteered to do the cleaning, master."   
  


Tranquillitates speaks again, "I'll leave at first light, master."   
  


"Do so. Keep me informed," The man steels as he lights a thick cigar. He puffs smoke circles into the air.   
  


The three bow deeply and dismiss. 

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**Chapter 4 : A Stitch In Time**   
  


Darth Alaway and Darth Polonius stand talking outside their master's luxurious marble palace. The sun blazes across the deserted plane surrounding the lush green oasis they find themselves at.   
  


They carefully look around to see if anybody is listening.   
  


Darth Alaway has a white complexion, his skinny face has a long scar and a tattoo of a venomous spider that covers his right eye. A sith, trained by Darth Sidious himself. His soul is black as night and from his corrupt heart flows only hatred and deceit.   
  


Darth Polonius has pale blue skin and puke yellow eyes. His lower lip is split into two parts. 

He is the thinking one of the trio, trained as both a sith and a military propagandist, he has played an invaluable role in many of Ndi'Chro's less-than-conspicuous operations.   
  


Both siths wear pitch black cloaks.   
  


Alaway starts, "Tranquillitates is becoming way too influential... We must get rid of him."   
  


Polonius glares at him and answers, "I cannot agree more, but that would be treason! We can't kill one of our own..."   
  


Alaway grabs Polonius by the throat, "You fool! Don't you realise that we are no longer siths? We became paid assassins the day we came to this dump!"   
  


Polonius removes Alaway's strong hands from his throat, "I guess..."   
  


Alaway still seems angry and speaks again, "Are you in or out? I say, we kill him tonight."   
  


Polonius stands thinking for a while... An idea hit him and he makes a suggestion, "Why don't we 'load his ship with some TCP3? We let him do the dirty work, kill whoever he must. We'll set the timer to detonate once he is on his way back from Ghwarraba. We can say, it was a republican craft that shot him down or something. Master Ndi'chro won't even know."   
  


Polonius adds as an afterthought, "As a matter of fact, I think master Ndi'Chro will be glad to have one less assassin to pay."   
  


Alaway thinks for a while, "Makes sense... So you're in... Okay... We go tonight..."   
  


They cover their heads with their black capes and walk apart. 

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**Chapter 5 : Ghwarraba Slave Market**   
  


It's late afternoon on Ghwarraba, the Sodom of the Parowa system. No law abiding, authority fearing being would dare venture around here.   
  


The planet's main source of income, apart from slavery, is of the cultivation and production of highly toxic hallucinogens that are sold on the black markets of almost any other planet in the system... Of course, here they are as readily available as cigarettes and bread.   
  


Wolff makes his way along the crowded main street. He wears improvised brownies and tough leather boots. The automatic rifle at his back serves as a stern warning to anyone planning to rob him. An oblong object dangles from the side of his belt. It is his cathode sabre.   
  


It has been almost twenty years since Wolff had fought in the epic battle of Naboo. After finally making peace with his past, he had moved to the planet Akrillia.   
  


There he has, through intense mediation and training, made of himself the closest thing one can get to a jedi without formal training.   
  


The jedi council was very impressed with his training, but refused to make him a jedi knight. 

They believed that he was too old, too militant and too emotionally unstable to be a true jedi. They conceded, however, by handing him odd jobs from time to time. This helped him to gain experience in combat and the use of the force.   
  


Wolff is tough, agile, headstrong and wise in the ways of the force. His heart, however, has changed little. He still has an emptiness inside of him, a longing desire to belong somewhere and an endless supply of care and respect, that nobody seems to want... Growing strong with the living force has only helped him hide this, better than ever before.   
  


His face is stern and alert as he presses through the crowd. The living force had guided him to this dump. He doesn't really know what he is supposed to do here, but presses on none the less, hoping that all will be revealed soon.   
  


All kinds of smelly drunks lay about the street, shouting foul at each other and spitting in the passers by. Wolff shakes his head. He mumbles, "Their spit might be poisonous enough to kill someone."   
  


Here and there, guards in uniform stand with blaster rifles poised. What they are trying to accomplish is anyone's guess, as everybody on the street carries a weapon of some kind.   
  


Something attracts Wolff's attention as he walks past a small podium.   
  


It is a slave auction.   
  


Muscle-clad beings stand on parade... There are also a couple of females. Wolff is sickened by the sight of this. He shudders to think what is to become of them.   
  


An energetic little man darts all over, trying to get his act together. He must be the slave dealer, making a living by selling the lives of other.   
  


Wolff peers through squinted eyes as he sees something out of the ordinary : A young gungan stands between two vicious looking beings. A conservative guess, fourteen, maybe sixteen years old? 

The gungan has a green-textured skin. The poor thing stands in agony. It's haillu are torn to ribbons. It clothes barely cover it's entire body. A thick steel leech is bolted around it's neck and it's hands are tied to his back.   
  


Wolff's gut wrenches. Indeed, he has acquired a deep apathy and respect towards gungans since his encounter with Jar Jar, more than twenty years ago.   
  


The force want's Wolff to do something about that gungan. He knows it now. Wolff inquisitively pats his right pocket and takes out a pack of credits.   
  


A dark robed figure also stands amongst the eager buyers. Darth Tranquillitates seems to sense Wolff's intentions and throws him an aggressive look. Wolff sees, but ignores him.   
  


The bidding begins.   
  


Wolff waits patiently as the slaves are sold one by one. A female Khula starts crying as her new owner jerks her along on a chain. Wolff shudders, but he doesn't intervene ; he can't afford to cause a scene now.   
  


After a long wait, the bidding starts on the gungan.   
  


The slave dealer walks over to the gungan and sticks his forefinger, lifting the gungan's upper lip showing it's teeth. The gungan seems to resist passively, the slave dealer doesn't seem to care a bit.   
  


"Hes tees are goot, he's hewthy, he'll be e haaard worker! Beddeng sterts et for handwed cwedits!"   
  


Wolff immediately accepts. Tranquillitates raises the bet. Another raises the bet again.   
  


The bidding continues furiously, but the other interested bidders stop their bidding at six hundred credits. Wolff and Tranquillitates bid aggressively, raising the stakes to well over one thousand.   
  


Tranquillitates reasons that his Ndi'Chro will repay him, no matter what it costs. Wolff has a strict cash limit and decides to cut the bidding short. He shouts out, "I'll take the gungan for two hundred grams of pure gold, that's my final offer!"   
  


Tranquillitates hisses as he hears this, Wolff has out bid him. The greedy dealer swoons and the crowd grows silent. They part in disbelief as Wolff approach the podium. They stare at him : to pay that much for a gungan is lunacy! They aren't good workers and they usually run off at the first given chance.   
  


Wolff drops a small vile of gold dust into the greedy hands of the dealer. "Sawld!" He shouts in delight. The dealer unlocks the gungan and hands Wolff the chain around it's neck.   
  


Wolff leaves the podium swiftly, dragging the gungan behind him.   
  


The young gungan sulks.   
  


Wolff would never treat any being like an animal, but he has to, at least until he is out of the crowd. They would think strange of him if he didn't and he didn't want to attract attention.   
  


Tranquillitates curses and moves out of the crowd. He disappears into the street.   
  


Wolff sees this and immediately knows that he is heading for a fight.   
  


He quickly drags the gungan in to a deserted ally. Wolff turns towards the gungan and says, "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you."   
  


The gungan replies with a, "Yeah, Right," look on his face... He obviously doesn't believe a word of it.   
  


Seeing this, Wolff promptly places his right palm on the shoulder of the gungan. It shudders as Wolff uses the force to quiet it's fears. The gungan is stunned by this. It's dried out eyes dart around, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with his keeper.   
  


"I'm glad you understand..." Wolff sais calmly as they re-enter the street.   
  


Tranquillitates stands at the ready waiting for them, "Hand over the gungan, now!" he orders angrily.   
  


Tranquillitates has a dark face with several pieces of rusty jewellery stuck distastefully into it. His white hair is cut in parallel lines, running all across his brow, well into his cape. He wears a pitch black robe.   
  


Wolff pretends to be stupid and replies, "Go buy yourself another slave! I paid d*mnwell enough for this one... As far as I know, gungans aren't even good workhorses either."   
  


Tranquillitates, seeing that talking won't persuade Wolff, draws his light sabre. "Bzzzz!" It emits a sinister red beam of energy. Wolff whips out his cathode sabre. It ignites with a hiss and emits a long white arc of energy.   
  


The gungan ducts out of the way as the two sabres meet in midair. It stays on the ground, dumb struck, staring in cold shock. 

Sabres clash as the two adversaries fight furiously. 

Wolff remains relatively calm throughout. Tranquillitates fights aggressively and tries to impale him several times... Wolff evades the sith's deadly stokes with little effort.   
  


Tranquillitates makes a gesture with his left hand and a wooden box flies towards Wolff's forhead. Lucky, he anticipated this and quickly ducts out of the way. The box hits someone in the crowd.   
  


Having done this, Tranquillitates has made him open for an attack! The cathode beam crackles as Wolff plunges it into the fiend's chest.   
  


Tranquillitates falls back, grasping his burning chest with both his hands. His sabre falls to the ground. It is nabbed immediately.   
  


With the last of his fading breath he utters, "...You can't win Jedi!"   
  


Tranquillitates drops to his knees, coughing and unable to breathe. Wolff kills his sabre as he approaches the dying sith. He replies in a stern, sarcastic voice, "Just too bad... I'm no jedi!"   
  


Tranquillitates groans and falls face first into the dirt. He dies kicking, his studded tongue pops out of his mouth.   
  


Wolff takes a defensive look around. A group of curious observers had gathered around. To one side, a dug lies dead, with a wooden box broken over it's head. It's weapons, money and clothes had already been stolen.   
  


The young gungan is no-where to be seen. Wolff quickly scans his surrounding and mumbles, worried, "Please tell me he didn't run off!"   
  


Just then, a guard in uniform approaches. The young gungan squirming in his bionic right hand. The guard asks bluntly, "Is he your's?"   
  


"Yeah, that one's mine," Wolff replies.   
  


The guard hands the gungan back to him, "Thanks."   
  


The guard makes a gesture, asking Wolff to tip him. Wolff takes out a couple of credits and stuffs it into the guard's beckoning hand. The guard runs off without saying thanks.   
  


Wolff stares at the crowd and shows them off with his free hand. They move apart, in part fear and part disbelief as Wolff and the gungan walk swiftly along. 

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   [1]: mailto:brolliks@hotmail.com



	2. Default Chapter Title

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# The Outsiders, The Forgotten

**

**Chapters 6 - 12**

**

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**

Chapter 6 : Strange Meeting 

To The Unknown Man - Vangelis   
  


The young gungan sits on top of a small bed in the medic bay of the Javelin. It squirms, helplessly, shutting it's eyes as Wolff approaches with a bolt cutter.   
  


The steel leech goes click as it is cut cleanly off.   
  


The gungan opens it's eyes, carefully. He rubs his sore neck, without taking it's eyes off of Wolff.   
  


Wolff greets, "Hello young one, my name is Eghbar Wolff, what's your's?"   
  


The gungan doesn't respond, he just stares forwards with empty eyes.   
  


Wolff waves his right hand in front of his chest and asks again, "What's your name?"   
  


The gungan blinks twice and starts speaking, "...Me... My no spake for two yeas... Mesa voice berry... bombaaad."   
  


"Doesn't matter, I'll understand," Wolff replies reassuringly.   
  


The gungan stutters, as he continues, "m...me... my called Kepla Rassss..."   
  


Wolff is relieved to hear him answer, "Hi, Kepla, nice meeting you."   
  


Kepla distrusts this friendly gesture and sighs, "My...my bein yousa... bombad... slabe... now."   
  


Wolff replies, "No, I'm a friend..."   
  


Kepla doesn't believe a word of this. He is very confused, but tries hide this by smiling. He struggles, not having smiled for a very long time. Slowly, he lifts his upper lip, showing his strong set of white teeth.   
  


Kepla is a rather steadily built gungan, exhibiting more muscle than Wolff had seen on his last escapade. Wolff had never seen a green gungan, either. Kepla is a little shorter than Jar Jar was.   
  


Although Kepla is only fourteen or so years old, he is almost the same height as Wolff.   
  


Kepla wants to speak, but struggles to form his words. He opens his mouth, but the words seem to collapse inside his throat. He coughs dryly.   
  


Wolff sees this. He carefully takes a clear blue pill from a plastic bottle, from the small table next to the bed.   
  


He hands this, along with a clear glass of water to Kepla and shows him to swallow.   
  


Kepla lifts the pill, carefully, but then lowers it again. He is very scared. He looks at the pill, then at Wolff. His hand starts trembling. Kepla firmly believes that this strange man is trying to poison him. Though said, at this stage Kepla doesn't really care about dying. He has had it with life anyway. With this thought, he shuts his eyes and draws them to his forehead in self pity.   
  


Wolff encourages him, "That pill will let you rest for a while. You've been through a lot."   
  


He waves his right hand in front of his chest. In a leap of faith, Kepla takes the pill and downs the entire glass of water.   
  


He blinks twice and collaps onto the small bed, his head hitting the mattress with a soft thud.   
  


"Poor thing," Wolff pities the young gungan, carefully running his forefinger along it's torn haillu. He shakes his head and leaves the room for the cockpit.   
  


His work on Ghwarraba is finished. He can't wait to get off.   
  


*** 

Wolff fastens his seatbelts and starts the ignition sequence. The Javelin is an ancient craft, missing many of the finer touches of modern star fighters. He is very proud of his craft though, and wouldn't swop it for anything else, even if he had such an option in these times of strife.   
  


After two minutes of total silence, the ignition light comes on. The electron source is active and the fuel is ready for combustion.   
  


Wolff smiles satisfactory as he takes a firm grip on the throttle. He pulls it back. The Javelin's powerful engines roar as they graciously lift the multi-ton spacecraft off of the half-deserted landing strip.   
  


It's quickly getting dark outside. Ghwarraba's elliptical orbit and stationary moon causes the days to be very short and the nights to be very long. People often joke by saying that, "Ghwarraba has an excellent night life."   
  


Wolff feels a shudder at the control stick. He quickly peers out the windscreen... His eyes widen.   
  


A mysterious craft on the landing strip had spontaneously ignited below! It burns in a sea of flames. A small craft next to it topples from the impact of the blast.   
  


"...Never trusted those blasted modern star fighters..." Wolff admits sarcastically, shaking his head.   
  


He pushes the Javelin out of the atmosphere and speeds off into space, on course for Akrillia.   
  


Fade Out Music

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**Chapter 7 : Stranger Awakening**   
  


12 O'clock - Vangelis   
  


Kepla awakens abruptly in a strange environment. He panics briefly as he sees the dim yellow light surrounding him. An incadescant light illuminates the bed he lays on. The warm blankets covering him, makes him feel vulnerable. He immediately throws them off and braces to jump up.   
  


Kepla's body still hurts, but he is feeling a lot better now... He is very alert now.   
  


He sees Wolff sitting next to the bed, reading a book. Wolff looks up.   
  


"Glad to see you're coming too," he greets.   
  


Kelpa is still not convinced of Wolff's friendliness, but greets carefully, "Hellosan."   
  


He immediately asks, "Where my bein at? How my be gettin hea?"   
  


Wolff answers him, "You are on the planet Akrillia now... I brought you here. You remember? I bought you on the slave market on Ghwarraba."   
  


Kepla thinks for a short while and then nods, "My be rememberin now... Yous buy mesa. Yous take my to desa ship... yous given mesa blu pill, den mesa sleep... My bein rite?"   
  


Long term memory is a sure sign of recovery from shock, Wolff is relieved at this.   
  


Kepla hesitates and asks carefully, "Yous saying mesa no being yousa bombad slave? My dun annerstanding!"   
  


Wolff answers calmly, "It's hard to explain. The living force wanted me to save you from that fiend. I know he would have bought and killed you... That I know that, but I do not know why."   
  


Kepla listens attentively as Wolff continues, "You are not my slave, but I expect of you to stay here at my place, at least until your wounds have healed."   
  


Kepla nods, "My be likin dat."   
  


It is exactly one hour before the sun rises in the north. Yet, Kepla seems well rested and is un-likely to go back to sleep again. He is still dazed by his new surroundings and sits staring.   
  


He blinks sporadically as he tries to see in the dim light.   
  


Wolff places a folded uniform on the bed next to him. It's similar to the one Wolff is wearing, but is a tad larger. It's the best he can offer Kepla at the moment.   
  


He points to the bathroom and sais, "Kepla, in there's the bathroom. Take a good shower and clean yourself. Put on this uniform. Your old clothes are expired and you would do well getting rid of them."   
  


Kepla stares at the uniform and then looks down at his torn baggy pants. He seems hesitant.   
  


Wolff waves his hand in front of his chest, again.   
  


Kepla blinks and replies numbly, "Okey-do."   
  


*** 

Wolff peers out of his bunker window over the horizon, at the rising sun of Akrillia. The sound of running water orchestrates the morning serenity. 

Fade Out Music   
  


***   
  


Kepla stands in the small improvised shower. The cool waters trickling all over his skin is a blessing unlike he has felt in ages. He bites his lip as he runs his hard fingertips over his torn haillu and dried out skin. "Desa berry bombad..." he sais to himself.   
  


The bathroom is brilliantly lit by a white fluorescent tube on the ceiling and a small tinted window looks out over the lightening landscape. Suddenly, the water stops flowing.   
  


Kepla peers up at the spout and asks angrily, "Wha?"   
  


He reaches out and turns the tap flat-out. Nothing happens.   
  


His showering had depleted the reservoir. If it had not been for this, he might have stayed in the shower for the rest of the day.   
  


"Bombad!" he moans as he despondently gets out. He walks carefully, as not to slip and fall on the tile floor.   
  


He takes a towel and dries himself off, carefully. He does not want to scrape his sunburnt skin.   
  


Kepla stares curiously at the razor and toothbrush near the sink, but resists the temptation to touch.   
  


He drops the towel into a pile and starts putting on the uniform.   
  


*** 

Wolff stands in front of the small gas stove, busy preparing breakfast. He usually eats soy-mixtures and water, but this is a special occasion... For the first time in twenty years, he has a visitor.   
  


He has prepared some beacon and mince he has kept in carbonite freezing. Needless to say, it's as fresh as on day one.   
  


*** 

The bathroom door swiftly opens and Kepla steps out, stretching himself. The uniform is a comfortable fit. The small frock sticks out at the top, quite surprisingly, he has put on everything the right way around.   
  


Kepla's nose tingles and he smiles. He sniffs the air and licks his lips in delight. The mouth-watering smell of the good food being prepared, makes his fear of his new surroundings vanish instantly.   
  


*** 

Breakfast is the best either of them had had for a very long time. Kepla eats heartly, using his flexible tongue to swoop up the bacon from the plate.   
  


Wolff doesn't seem to mind this. He asks curiously, "Where do you come from?"   
  


Kepla chews, swallows and looks up from his plate. He lifts his hands to his shoulders and answers, almost agonising, "Mesa no be rememberin! Desan slabe man, hesa giben wesa dem serim... my no be rememberin noting!"   
  


Wolff shudders. The "slave serum" Kepla is referring to is a cruel drug, invented and manufactured illegally on Ghwarraba, as a by-product of the normal hallucinogens. It causes severe long term memory loss, and in rare occasions also causes brain damage. Kepla appears to be one of the lucky ones, not suffering the latter. Some slave merchants inject their slaves with it to make them more obedient; not having the memory of their past to fire their passion for freedom.   
  


Wolff comments, "The salve serum is powerful, but it's not incurable. With time and proper nutrition, you will regain your memory. It might take several years, though."   
  


Kepla smiles longingly, "My already be rememberin some o dees. My least be knowin mesa dat mesa gungan and dat my be comin from Ota Ganga."   
  


Kepla sighs his face dropping, "Ba dat's about al mesa know... Yous say, maby in time, mesa be rememberin more?"   
  


"I'm sure you will Kepla, I'm sure you will."   
  


The two continue their breakfast until every last crumb has vanished.   
  


Kepla smiles lavishly in contempt, with more success than earlier. Wolff sees this, and is pleased to see it.   
  


A smile, despite being free and universally accepted, is a rare site in these times of suffering.   
  


For Kepla Rass, his first day on Akrillia has begun, and good at that. 

* * *

**Chapter 8 : Akrillia, Planet of Hope**   
  


Heaven and Hell, 3rd Movement - Vangelis   
  


Akrillia is a dry rocky planet. It's main source of income being the mining of precious metals, including gold, silver and carbon clusters. In the depression years, the planet had also stated selling some of it's energy sources : including propane, petroleum, derithium and unstable quartz.   
  


Most of the planet's inhabitants are paid labourers. The mining boss, Ikopia Protz, is a good friend of Queen Amidala. Shortly after the battle of Naboo, he conceded to allow Wolff to move into a miner's bunker without paying any rent.   
  


Electricity and fuel is state subsidised on Akrillia. This is one of the main reasons Wolff decided to live here other than anywhere else.   
  


Ikopia doesn't believe in slave labour, and he also wanted to help the poor people of the neighbouring planets. Instead of buying a legion of droids, he allowed them to come and work for him.   
  


Wolff had been living on Akrillia for many years now, yet, he never really got to know the other inhabitants by name. They saw Wolff as being a hermit who wanted to be left alone. This was true, most of the time.   
  


Wolff isn't employed and spends most of his time training himself in the arts of the force, periodically leaving the planet for Coruscant on a mission of some sort.   
  


Kepla Rass found the planet's atmosphere to be hot and irritating and savoured every moment he could spend in the shower. 

* * *

**Chapter 9 : The Healing Process**

As time progressed, Kepla grew more and more at accustomed to Wolff's bunker. For the first couple of days, Kepla stayed inside. Wolff promised to take him outside as soon as he was in a condition to do so.   
  


Kepla's haillu had started to heal, albeit slowly. Wolff dosed them with organic-iodene on a daily basis, much to Kepla's dislike of the strong smell and the burning. Though Kepla seemed to understand that it was all for the better.   
  


Kepla's fingernails had started growing back too and his skin regained it's proper gloss.   
  


He spent a lot of time in the shower. Wolff knew that a gungan's skin needed a lot of water to stay healthy. He sacrificed a great amount of precious drinking water for this.   
  


Wolff made Kepla breathe with his head submerged in a bucket of water from time to time.   
  


This was to ensure that he doesn't unlearn his natural ability to breathe under water. Akrillia is a bone-dry planet with almost no natural water pools. The few that are there, are closely guarded for the sole purpose of drinking.   
  


Kepla didn't always understand the strange requests of his master, but complied willingly. It was therapeutic; even pleasant at times.   
  


Slowly, but surely, Kepla regained his gungan dignity. He and Wolff became close friends, even though Kepla still sometimes referred to him as "Masta", or "Masta Wolffe".   
  


Wolff much disliked this. He felt strangely guilty at this, as if Kepla was in fact _his_ superior...   
  


Fade Music Out Slowly

* * *

**Chapter 10 : "Wolff's Diary ; My Strange Visitor, Kepla Rass"**   
  


The young one is slowly, but surely, regaining his gungan dignity... I can see it in his eyes, and on his facial expressions. His physique is showing signs of recovery too.   
  


A gungan's haillu is usually a very good indication of it's physical health. Kepla's haillu are starting to mend again. The iodene works like a charm.   
  


He has one monster appetite. Sadly, money is scarce, so our diet comprises mostly subsidised Chuna and course bread. Kepla never moans about the food, though. He is a very pleasant and grateful young gungan. (Not that he has reason to complain; I always give him as much as he wants to eat.)   
  


I've recently cleared out my old storage room, moving most of the items to the garage to make a small room for him, where he can sleep and sit and wonder.   
  


He seems to be enjoying his uniform. I still have his old clothing... Stuffed in a bag, somewhere amongst the junk in the garage.   
  


Up until now, he has spent most of his time indoors, sleeping and showering. I assume that it's part of the natural healing process.   
  


I've burnt a roll of 16mm film on him today. He found it very amusing, and I got some excellent footage. Sadly, it's the last roll I had. I'll have to wait for the recession to pass before I can get more film from Lanceria. (My developer is also in dire need of servicing, come to think of it.) 

I guess Kepla will still be here for a week or so. After that, I'll take him back to Otha Gunga. 

* * *

**Chapter 11 : Kepla Ventures Outside**   
  


Wolff ties the shoelaces of his army boots.   
  


Kepla peeks in at the room's door and walks up to him. He asks carefully, "hmm... Exqueeze mesa, Wolff? My wonderin..."   
  


Wolff looks up, "Yes?"   
  


Kepla continues, "Mesa wonderin... it bein okey-de if mesa be coming along? Desa bein berry lonesome in desa home... My no bein sick anymore."   
  


Wolff hesitates. If he said yes, he'd be putting Kepla's sensitive skin at risk from the sun. On the other hand, he knows that young gungans have an uncontrollable desire to lead active lives. He thinks for a while, but then smiles. He just got an idea.   
  


"Yes Kepla, you can come along... There's just something I want you to do first."   
  


Kepla's face lightens as he asks, "Wha?"   
  


Wolff gets up and walks to his drawer. He takes out a pot of sun-screen. He passes this on to Kepla.   
  


"Put some of this onto your exposed skin... Put some on you head and haillu too... It'll should keep them from drying out."   
  


Kepla stares at the pot in his hands, "Hmmm...."   
  


"I'll wait for you in the foyar," Wolff sais as he leaves the room, jogging on the spot, to warm his muscles for the run ahead.   
  


Kepla places the pot on the small table. He unscrews the lid and sticks his right hand into it. 

He stares at his hand, covered in a thick, clear gel.   
  


He utters, "Icky doo!", as he places some of it onto his left arm. He despondently rubs it in and he continues with his right arm, his neck and his head, his haillu.   
  


*** 

The bedroom door swings open as the glistening Kepla comes strolling out, seeming very proud of himself.   
  


Wolff leads the way and opens the front door.   
  


It's not as hot outside as Wolff had anticipated. The sun is setting and a slight breeze blows over the barren landscape. Large mining towers lay scattered over the reddish soil of Akrillia.   
  


"I'll lead, you follow... Shout if I'm going too fast."   
  


"Oke-do!"   
  


With this, Wolff picks up a moderate jog along a winding path, slowly progressing up the hill.   
  


The glistening gungan follows him closely. Kepla's haillu flap in the breeze. He smiles. He likes to run. His big feet pat the ground with every step he takes.   
  


Wolff jogs straight as an arrow. His heavy boots ram down onto the reddish soil. He seems to march.   
  


The two figures jog alongside the edge of the cliff, slowly winding their way to the top.   
  


After a couple of minutes, Wolff stops to take a looksee. Kepla is a couple of metres behind him, his long tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He is tired, but he seems happy.   
  


Wolff awaits him with his hands on his hips, "Glad to se you're keeping up."   
  


Kepla's breath races, "My... berry... tirin! Me... sit... down... okey...?"   
  


"No problem."   
  


Kepla sits down on a rock and peers off over the cliff edge, his breath still racing. Wolff stands close by, arms folded, looking too.   
  


He had seen the sight many times before, but it still remains impressive. The sun beats their backs as the two silently observe the horizon.   
  


*** 

Kepla's breathing has begun returning to normal now. "Masta Wolff, " he asks, "yousa know, mesa nebber bein outside hea... what towers der, ober on desan horison?"   
  


Wolff points, "They're mining towers. They lift up precious metals from the planet's core."   
  


Kepla nods, "My see!"   
  


He stares in awe. The space is overwhelming... The red rocky hills meld away amongst the sparse black trees and the big rocks. A glistening railway line is visible, running from the small station below, all the way around the first hill.   
  


Kepla's eyes aren't used to focussing on far objects. He blinks sporadically as he tries to focus in on over the horizon. He sits staring for a couple of minutes.   
  


"We should be going back now... It's getting dark," Wolff remarks as he points to the setting sun in the south.   
  


Kepla is despondent, "Oh no! Mesa no be going back al dat way again... My tirin!"   
  


"This time it's down hill... It will be easier." Wolff motivates Kepla to follow.   
  


Kepla sighs, "Huuu... Maybe yous right."   
  


The two jog down the hill as the horizon turns magnificently orange as the sun sets in the south. They reach the bunker before the landscape is smothered in darkness. 

* * *

**Chapter 12 : Startling Revelation**   
  


The two sit down over supper. It is windy and pitch black dark night outside the bunker. A swinging incandescent lamp illuminates the small dinner table. The Marantz high-band radio jabbers silently in the background and tiny flickering LEDs peer from a panel in the wall.   
  


Wolff has prepared a good batch of chuna tonight. It clean, simple and readily available. It has the texture of a fine meat, but tastes (mostly) like water. It's one of the only affordable things that both he and Kepla like eating.   
  


It has been more than a month since he had taken Kepla into his care. The time to take him to his home on Naboo was fast approaching. Wolff knows that keeping the young gungan would be detrimental towards his cultural development. He was planning to discuss this with Kepla over supper, but something keeps telling him to wait.   
  


Kepla is worried. He wants to ask Wolff something but is scared to... He thinks that Wolff will think he is losing it. He sighs and shakes his head from side to side.   
  


Wolff notes that Kepla isn't himself tonight... He sais, asking, "Something is bothering you Kepla... Is there anything you would like to share?"   
  


Kepla is startled at this, "How yous be knowin!"   
  


"I can see into your mind...", Wolff smiles, joking. Wolff really can, but this time round, it's just plain observation. He puts down his fork and folds his arms.   
  


"Bombad! My be careful of what mesa tinks!" Kepla complains. He feels exposed by this.   
  


He sighs, "Mesa dunno..."   
  


Wolff feels a strange fluctuation in the force. He frowns. This had been the first time he felt something strange in the force, since he met Kepla at the slave market.   
  


Kepla draws all his courage together, "You no be tinking mesa be seein tings? My've been in desa sun a yot lately..."   
  


Kepla swallows a chunk of chuna and continues, "My been dreamin... Mesa see yous be tranin mesa... Desan force ting? Yousa know... Jedi?"   
  


Wolff is surprised by this. Of all things, this might have been the last thing he expected Kepla to say.   
  


Wolff asks curiously, "Are you sure about that?"   
  


Kepla answers confidently, "Mesa mooie mooie sure 'bout dat! My be havin desa same dreamin for desa past week!"   
  


Wolff leans over to him, "I can find out if your dream means something... I need your permission... I need to look into your mind."   
  


Wolff has a principle bias against looking into other's minds without their knowledge and consent. He only does so when someone's life or sanity is at stake.   
  


Kepla frowns. The idea of someone digging in his mind upsets him... But his curiosity nagging him is much bigger than his fear. He bites his lip and thinks for a while.   
  


"Okey-do, my willing... Yous be going in now?" He asks curiously.   
  


Wolff starts the process, "Kepla, close your eyes and concentrate... Try and think of your dream... Try to relive it."   
  


Kepla closes his eyes tightly and draws them down to his forehead. Wolff closes his eyes too. 

The living force flows freely between the two beings as Wolff enters Kepla's mind... The two sit frozen in time, and frozen in space.   
  


They sit the table for more than eight hours on end. Kepla's face is relaxed. Wolff's forhead is sweating in concentration. The gungan, unintentionally, giving him a very, very hard time. 

* * *


	3. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# The Outsiders, The Forgotten 

******Chapters 13 - 18**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 13 : The Morning After   
  


Kepla awakens with a shock. It's early morning in the slightly darkened bunker. Wolff sits at the table opposite him, staring down at his plate.   
  


He is mentally worn out. Kepla's mind had given him a struggle of a lifetime ; the age old fighting spirit of the gungan race was almost a match for Wolff's. He had seen just enough of Kepla's dream to make up his mind.   
  


Kepla enquires excitedly, "What yous be seein Wolffe?"   
  


Wolff blinks and looks Kepla straight into the eyes, "You're a very special gungan, Kepla."   
  


Wolff seems sad and gets right to the point, "You have been chosen by the force to be my padowan learner. With your consent, I am to train you in the ways of the jedi."   
  


Kepla is excited at hearing this, "Mooie! My be knowin dat!"   
  


He smiles lavishly, but his smile quickly fades as Wolff seems dearly saddened. "Wha de matta masta Wolff? Yousa no being glad 'bout dat?" he asks his face dropping.   
  


"Kepla, I'm going to give you the day to think this over," Wolff sighs, "I'm more than willing to train you, but there is something you should know."   
  


Kepla folds his arms on the table and listens attentively, "Wha bein dat?"   
  


"If you choose to turn down the calling, you shall become what you was before, a gungan. Nothing more, nothing less. I shall take you back to Otha Gunga and the force shall leave you... Plainly said, you'll hear no more of it."   
  


Wolff stares for a while and he frowns as he continues, "If you accept the calling, Kepla Rass, you'll have to give it everything you've got. You'll have to be strong, for the road ahead is uneven... I foresee you'll face the same problems I have. You'll be an outcast with nowhere to belong. You'll have no friends, no family, no home."   
  


Kepla is disturbed by this, "Yousa mean my bein bannsihed?"   
  


Wolff shakes his head, "No... That's just the way it works, Jedi aren't everyday people. They cannot commit themselves anywhere else."   
  


Kepla sighs, "Desa bein berry hard choice! My mooie mooie want to bein jedi... ba mesa wants being gwand gunga general too!"   
  


Wolff states, "I'm going out to town for the day. You stay here. Quiet your mind and think this over... It's the biggest choice you'll ever make, I want you to choose wisely."   
  


Kepla seems to understand, "Thankyous Wolff, my be tinkin des ober desa day... My tell yous tonight."   
  


Wolff is relieved at Kepla's quick understanding. It hurts him to have to tear this young gungan between his cultural identity and his great aspirations for the future, but it has to be done, one way or the other. He could have lied, but it's not in his nature to do so... He just hopes Kepla is wise enough to make the right decision.   
  


He takes a set of keys from the board at the front door. Wolff is immensely tired and walks out the door without eating any breakfast.   
  


As the front door shuts, the longest day of Kepla's life begins. 

* * *

**Chapter 14 : The Station**   
  


A long dusty road stretches out from Wolff's bunker, all the way to the railway station below. 

It's a pleasant walk, but Wolff doesn't have the time or the energy for that today. He needs to go to town to buy some supplies.   
  


It is early, but already warm, and not a dry breeze bringing relief to the scorched people of Akrillia.   
  


He scans the horizon and then opens the garage door next to his bunker. He moves inside.   
  


The garage is small and untidy. Against the wall, all Wolff's failed cathode experiments stand on exhibit with a dirty hand written label under it, "How NOT to make a cathode sabre.".   
  


Wolff steels a smile every time he sees this. It cheers him up, even today. He has all kinds of junk in here. In the far right corner stands an enclosed dark compartment, housing his film processing equipment. In the opposite corner is his propane welder, his analog oscilloscope and the blown radio transceiver he is trying to fix.   
  


Wolff used to do many interesting things when he was younger. Film photography only being one of them. Sadly, time, but mostly financial strife had put him out of this. He now spends most of his spare time trying to maintain and fix the couple of items he still has to his name.   
  


He lifts an improvised helmet and goggles from a greasy box table, stuffed with spanners and nuts.   
  


He bends down to covered bulky object on the floor. He quickly whips off the cloth covering it.   
  


It's his dune stap.   
  


He had built it himself from spare parts he scavenged down in the town. A greasy 1300cc, four stroke petroleum engine sits at the back of a skeleton structure built from steel piping. A tattered seat is in front of the engine. To the front and side of this, all kinds of controls and knobs beckon invitingly.   
  


Wolff takes a seat. He straps on the six-pointed safety belt. He puts the helmet on his head and the goggles over his eyes.   
  


He likes the smell of grease. It makes him think back to the days on Katinnisiak. There, petroleum was the only way to go... Except for the fact that there, you actually had to pay for it.   
  


He flips a couple of switches and steps on the accelerator. Steel cables squeak. He feels the control stick... Everything seems in order.   
  


Wolff slots a rusty key from his pocket into a gaping socket. He turns it gently. The starter shutters, the engine gulps twice, but dies. He tries again, this time, stepping on the accelerator pedal. The mighty four stoke fires up with a deafening roar. Wolff revs it up a couple of times. 

Thick black smoke streams out of the exhaust and the steel frame graciously lifts itself from the garage floor.   
  


The craft rolls forward, half a metre above the ground. Outside, Wolff brakes and comes to a standstill in full view of the front door.   
  


Kepla stands staring with widened eyes. Wolff had never before started his vehicle in Kepla's presence... He just wants Kepla to see that everything is okay.   
  


He waves as he floors the accelerator. The craft tears down the winding path kicking up a long trail of red dust in it's wake.   
  


Wolff glares down at the speedometer... Hundred and fifty downhill... He likes doing this.   
  


Momentum powers the craft forward, the engine being there only to keep it off of the ground.   
  


The dune stap has excellent shock absorbing and road-holding properties. You can turn on a dime at almost any speed (if your stomach can hold it!).   
  


Wolff brakes slightly as he approaches a bend... He throws the control stick sidewards and the craft tilts heavily as it does a near-ninety degree turn on the dusty path.   
  


Time seems to be on his side too. In the distance, the so-called Propane Express moves into the small station below. 

The "Class F Demon" made it's name by transporting the bulk of the planet's gas to the far off airfields. In the early morning and late afternoon it doubles up as a personnel transport, carrying the chemical engineers from the small town to the distillery over the hill. Usually, there are ample empty carriages to pick up the odd worker, and his baggage.   
  


The train runs on deheritium, making it not only the most powerful, but also the fastest locomotive running on Akrillia's sparse network of rails. Wolff often races this monster train along the railway line, into town... and usually loses!   
  


But not today. Today, he is getting on. During his short trip downwards, he realised just how tired he really is. He doesn't want to risk an accident whilst Kepla is alone at the bunker.   
  


Wolff parks his craft and walks up to the locomotive. He greets the train engineer peering out, "Morning, Epsilon... Got a spare carridge?"   
  


Epsilon laughs jokingly, "Eh! Giv'in up already, he he he! W'ven't even raced yet!"   
  


Wolff laughs, "I'm a little tired this morning... I don't feel like driving all the way... Do you have room for one more?"   
  


Epsilon is a good soul, despite being one of the least intelligent people on the planet. He is always making a friendly joke and never seems bothered. He is tough built, has shallow blue eyes and a mustache. He is missing some of his teeth and he is always dirty from his work. 

A real Akrillia red-neck.   
  


Epsilon answers, "Yaeh! Hop 'nto carridge four... Today; 'll show 'ya some real power!"   
  


Wolff walks away. Moments later, he parks his vehicle on the fourth carriage.   
  


Carriage four is topless. He stops the engine and sits back in the seat as the stap graciously drops to the floor.   
  


A couple of minutes later, Epsilon yells, "Ala 'board!".   
  


With this, the mighty deherithium engines roar. Epsilon obviously trying to show off. The locomotive's driving wheels spin on the rail... Sparks fly and the rails become red hot.   
  


Wolff sits soberly. Indeed, that kind of power does makes his craft seem slightly insignificant.   
  


The "Propane Express" powers forward across the barren, reddish landscape, the twenty carriages rattling on the rail as they charge involuntarily along. 

* * *

**Chapter 15 : Kepla's Meeting with Qui-Gon**   
  


Whilst Wolff was in town, refuelling and buying other necessities, Kepla was in the bunker, drenched in deep thought, walking around and speaking to himself.   
  


He walks to and fro the front door. He sighs deeply and drops onto a chair.   
  


"Hello young one," A strange voice greets Kepla.   
  


"Wesa de voicea be comin fro? Wolff, desa bein yousa?"   
  


A glowing visage appears in front of Kepla, it's that of Qui-Gon Jinn with his white robe and long black and gray hair. His arms are folded and there is a stern, but friendly expression on his face. Kepla doesn't know him and is startled. He throws his hands into the air.   
  


Qui-Gon tries to calm him by saying, "Don't be afraid young one... I'm a friend."   
  


"What yousa be wantin? Mesa no be livin ere! Desa being de 'ome of Wolffe!" Kepla demands to know angrily.   
  


Qui-Gon explains, "I'm the visual incantation of Qui-Gon Jinn, I was the one who saw the force in Wolff when I was still alive... I've come to help you with your decision."   
  


After calming down, Kepla carefully offers Qui-Gon a seat, but Qui-Gon doesn't sit down. He prefers to stand.   
  


Qui-Gon starts talking to Kepla.   
  


After a while, Kepla starts enjoying Qui-Gon's company and chats flamboyantly.   
  


"...Wolff is a capable master, Kepla. I believe he is capable of bringing out the best in you, but like everybody else, he's imperfect... He has his faults."   
  


Kepla frowns, "Mesa no be seein dem problems with hem."   
  


Qui-Gon sighs, "I am not here to reveal your master's imperfections. I'm here to tell you what's expected of you as a padowan learner."   
  


Qui-Gon continues, "Wolff is wise in the ways of the force, but he has no formal training. He also lacks the field training one needs."   
  


"Yousa be sayin hesa no jedi?"   
  


"Technically speaking, Wolff isn't a jedi..." Qui-Gon readily admits, "He is a soldier... A good one at that, but not a jedi..." Qui-Gon looks up and ads, "Lucky for him, he realises and accepts that. You Kepla, on the other hand, you are destined to become a real jedi knight, like I was."   
  


Kepla feels strange hearing this, Wolff being discussed in this manner. He never knew that there is so much to his strange master Wolff!   
  


Qui-Gon continues, "Wolff shall train you up to a point, Kepla... A good point at that... But in time, you shall surpass his level of proficiency and you will need to get an official Jedi master. Then, you will learn more about the Jedi discipline itself, something Wolff cannot teach you, no matter how much he would like to do so."   
  


Qui-Gon spends a good couple of hours explaining all the finer details to Kepla.   
  


Gungans aren't that good at remembering and understanding, but Kepla copes well.   
  


Time flies. Outside, morning soon becomes late afternoon.   
  


As the conversation draws to and end, Qui-Gon concludes, "Remember what I've told you : Obey you master and let him guide, but not control you... You shall know when the time comes to stand on your own feet."   
  


Kepla takes a gulp of water from a glass in his right hand, "Yousa know, Quee-Gon, mesa be tinkin... My bein jedi afteral!"   
  


Kepla smiles confidently at having made his decision. Qui-Gon seems satisfied, "You've chosen wisely, young one... May the force be with you."   
  


Qui-Gon vanishes into thin air.   
  


Kepla jumps up at this, almost spilling the glass of water. He has had such a deep discussion with Qui-Gon, he had forgetting that Qui-Gon is just a visage!   
  


Kepla puts down the glass. He carefully walks over to where Qui-Gon had been. He sniffs the air.   
  


He exclaims, "Bombad! Desa noting hea!"   
  


He shakes his head in disbelief and talks to himself, "NOW, my been sein tings!"   
  


Kepla sits down again. His heart beats with anticipation... All that has to happen now, is for Wolff to get home. He could tell him of his decision and seal his future. This excites him a great deal. His earlier fears had gone like mist before the sun.   
  


Kepla sat staring at the front door for another hour, although for him, it felt like two minutes.   
  


*** 

Wolff's dune stap roars up the hill, headlights burning. The rumbling is muffled as he parks it inside the garage.   
  


He unties his seatbelt and takes off his helmet and goggles. His side pack bulges with his purchased supplies. Wolff gets up and stretches himself.   
  


The hot engine tinks as it cools down in the evening cold. A deafening silence ascends on the bunker.   
  


The front door opens violently as Kepla runs to greet Wolff, bursting with excitement, "Wolffe! My be deciding! Mesa being yous parrowan! Mooie Mooie! My luvs yous!"   
  


Kepla hugs the passive and very tired Eghbar Wolff. He sympathetically pats Kepla on the back, "I'm glad, Kepla... Lets go have supper. Your training starts tomorrow."   
  


After a chuna sandwich, Wolff and Kepla go to sleep.   
  


Wolff is exhausted and has no trouble falling asleep. Kepla is ecstatic. He rolls around for several hours on his squeaky mattress before falling asleep himself.   
  


A new age had begun for both of them and neither their lives would never be the same again. 

* * *

**Chapter 16 : Kepla's Training**   
  


The training was tough from day one. Every weekday, Wolff drilled Kepla EDF style, making him do push-ups, sit-ups and lots of endurance training.   
  


At the end of the first week, Kepla could barely stand up straight from his tired muscles. He complained a lot, moaned about his "bombad tyring ams an wegs". Wolff was a good but firm trainer. He knew very well that true endurance doesn't come from giving up. Unfortunately for Kepla, Wolff also knew that a young gungan's muscles are very supple and can take a lot of battering without injury. Kepla had to suffice.   
  


After a couple of weeks though, Kepla slowly started getting used to the immense strain, and could manage it better and better.   
  


Wolff trained Kepla in the jedi arts too ; teaching him to quiet his mind and to listen to the living force speaking.   
  


Kepla is headstrong and, unlike most other gungans, rather intelligent too. He progressed slowly, but steadily, in the ways of the living force. As he grew stronger, he could tap more and more energy from himself.   
  


He was agile by nature and gave Wolff a hard time in stick fights from day one. Wolff decided to teach him to fight with a stick first, instead of giving him a sabre immediately. Besides, he had not finished working on his sabre yet.   
  


*** 

Wolff realised soon enough that the young gungan's outfit would require special attention when it came to combat. His long neck and elevated eyes were easy targets for attack.   
  


Unfortunately, there was little he could do about those.   
  


Wolff improvised a special cloth bag for Kepla's haillu. They often bugged him during stick fights, and they spelt grave danger when he would start fighting with a real sabre.   
  


Kepla would keep his haillu neatly and comfortable bundled behind his back, except when he showered, or practised his water breathing.   
  


Wolff once offered Kepla a robe he found in town, but it didn't fit his anatomy. He chose to keep his uniform, with it's brown jacket, pants and belt.   
  


Kepla never wore any shoes, for his once sensitive feet grew hard and tough from jogging on the hard, rocky soil of Akrillia.   
  


*** 

Wolff often took Kepla to the shooting range beyond the station.   
  


Kepla hated this.   
  


The battering rattle of the R1 and the pounding blasts of the shotgun disorientated him beyond reasonable sanity. He was poor shot and his frail gungan shoulders would have been no match for the powerful artillery Wolff had available.   
  


In desperation, Wolff gave Kepla the smallest calibre rifle he had. The gungan despondently practised target shooting using the 4.5 mm. Wolff insisted that he at least try, even if it's just to get his eyes in shape. Gungan eyes, unlike human eyes are better adapted to seeing close objects, rather than far off ones, a skill Kepla would most certainly need to learn if he was to become a jedi.   
  


*** 

In his spare time, in the evenings, Kepla often listened to Wolff's high-band radio. His favourite programs being "Galactic Armadillo's 20 Questions", "Monty Python's Up The Republic" and "Late Night Instrumental Music For All".   
  


Kepla also liked scribbling on pieces of paper. He found it very stimulating and somehow, it had helped him regain a large portion of his lost memory. Kepla is ambedexterous and sometimes drew with both hands at the same time, depending on how much inspiration he had that evening.   
  


Wolff spent most evenings in his garage, reloading ammunition, fixing things or writing in his journals. On occasion, he and Kepla would play a holographic strategy board-game called "Amortivati" he rediscovered in his garage, under a heap of trash.   
  


*** 

Amidst the training, Wolff and Kepla remained close friends. Admittedly, it's hard being friends with someone who is supposed to be your superior.   
  


Wolff didn't want their friendship to crumble. Kepla was one of the few true friends he ever had, that had not been taken away from him by war and death. 

* * *

**Chapter 17 : "Kepla's Diary ; Wolffe, 'bout Mesa Techa Guy**"   
  


Mys only beginin to wite, so yousa fawgiva mesa spelling bein nombad, okeydokey-de?   
  


My be putting through a yot o trainin in desa last... maybe say too yeas? My be feelin betta how. Desa trainin bein berry bombad at desa beginnin, ba masta wolffe, hesa telsa my, "Yousa no get yoot from queetin, Keplo..." My mooie beliefs his now.   
  


Wolffe, hesa show me desan wandaful tings yous can does wit desa fawce ting. My be mooie mooie liftin tings wit mesa tinkin!   
  


Wesa fite wit desan steeks too. No figtin like bombad enemies tough, ba hesa be showin my to defend meself dat whay.   
  


Wolffe hesa no be tellin my maach about his self. He be showin my sam fotos, some time, an hesa tel my of desa gwand gungan wa on Naboo or somsin. Yousa no be tellin him, ba mesa tinks, hesa sad about somsin... My tinks hesa no want to spake about dat, so my no askin him anymore.   
  


Wolffe does desan berry gwand tings too! Hesan be spedin mooie much of hesa time in de goraage of his. My no mind. My likes habin time to mesaself.   
  


Hesa makin tings, hesa fix tings too. Hesan show my! Hesa be re-loa-den dem bombad bew-les of hesan. My no understandin dat tings, ba my no mind. My no as bombad clever as he bein.   
  


Wel, yoot nite boyos, see yous agin! 

* * *

**Chapter 18 : "Wolff's Diary ; Commentary on Kepla's Progress"**   
  


It's now been almost three years since I took Kepla into my care. More than ever, that young gungan astounds me.   
  


Our daily routine has consolidated over the last eighteen months or so. In the morning, after breakfast, I drill him, like I used to be drilled when I was still a private in the EDF.   
  


As a result of this, Kepla has grown very strong. His fitness level is excellent, for he is still young and he has a strong heart. Physically, he is showing some degree of muscle growth. 

I know that gungans aren't very muscular beings and I realise that I will always be his superior. (In that respect, anyway).   
  


His initial resistance to guns and explosions had (thankfully) faded with constant exposure. 

His hand eye coordination and stability has improved considerably. True, he doesn't have the psyche of a sniper, but I feel that I'm doing my part. He "enjoys" shooting at cans with the 45 (a pop gun for all intents and purposes).   
  


Sadly, my own rifle shooting has declined considerably. For the simple reason, that my ammunition supply is waning. As much as I'd like to, I cannot afford to waist my ammo. Who knows, one day, I might still need a couple of rounds.   
  


On one or two occasions, I demonstrated the C4, TT31 and the menacing C7 stick grenade to him... "Just so that he knows of their existence".   
  


I never intend on allowing him to use that kind of artillery ; One needs special training for that... Training that I have, but cannot give. Besides, such bombs aren't the weapons of a true jedi.   
  


In the early evenings, we usually practice stick fighting. Kepla has always been agile. He is a tough opponent in stick fights. By now, he has mastered the basic technique, and very soon, I'll start bringing the force into the battle, for a true Jedi doesn't fight with a sabre, he fights with the force. Without the force, you are merely waving around a blazing sabre hoping to cut something. (This strategy is, to say the least, highly ineffective.)   
  


Some evenings, I am also teaching Kepla to read and write, both in my mother tongue and the little uni-code I know. He can read now, albeit slowly. His writing is going on fine.   
  


I am teaching him to fly the Javelin. On some cooler weekends, we jog down to the deserted air-field to practice.   
  


The first time was as hard for me as it was for him... Let's just say, we almost crashed into a barrack.   
  


Flying the Javelin is not hard, though, and once you know the basic technique, things start happening automatically. At the present, I still won't allow him to fly on his own, but at least I'm at ease when he is in the pilot's seat.   
  


To date, I've never taken Kepla into town. The closest we've been was the station. He insisted on seeing it, so we jogged there a couple of times and watched as the trains charge along the railway line.   
  


I don't really want the other people to know of his presence... For the simple reason, I don't know what their reaction will be. A negative reaction could jeopardise his training, and possibly get me fined, or even worse, thrown off.   
  


The road ahead : My share in Kepla's training is almost done. A month or so, and I'll take him to meet the Jedi Council. I cannot keep him here forever. Akrillia is busy stagnating as I write. The prospects for a young Jedi is plainly said, next-to-none.   
  


On a personal note, it has been a truly amazing experience, watching him slowly grow and develop his own unique gungan personality. I feel a little sad for his biological father, whom and wherever he may be, not being able to have witnessed this, his son's growth, first hand.   
  


Though I never had a son of my own, I think I am now, though only beginning to, understand what it is all about. I know this : It's going to be very hard once he has gone. After experiencing such a dear friendship, the idea of living alone is not nearly as inviting as it used to be. May the force help me to adapt quickly and painlessly. 

* * *


	4. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# **The Outsiders, The Forgotten**

**Chapters 19 - 25**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 19 : Training With Sticks   
  


Wolff is having a tough time. He and Kelpa practise their stick fighting, just outside the bunker in the late afternoon sun.   
  


Kepla's mind is focussed as he effortlessly evade Wolff's attacks, stabs and hits.   
  


It seems to Kepla, as if Wolff is trying to make it easy for him... In reality Wolff is fighting with all his might. Kepla is just that much better than he is.   
  


The sticks clap as they hit in midair. Then, Wolff signals Kepla to stop.   
  


"Wha desa bein masta Wolff?" Kepla demands to know.   
  


"You've mastered the basic technique. Very good. But you should always be mindful of other factors in a fight too..."   
  


Wolff makes a gesture.   
  


Kepla is thrown backwards. He falls back and lands on the palms of his hands. He jumps to his feet and demands to know, "Bombad! How yous be doin dat?"   
  


"You do it by focussing on the subject... It's almost like lifting something using the force, except for one little difference."   
  


Kepla dusts his hands and enquires, "Wha bein dat?"   
  


Wolff explains, "A being is capable of resisting the force... up to a point. You have to surpass that point to be able to throw him... Come on... try to throw me!"   
  


Kepla frowns, but obeys. He concentrates hard, but nothing happens.   
  


"You see Kepla, I can resist your throwing me when I'm concentrating... Now, try again, this time during combat."   
  


Kepla and Wolff pick up a moderate stick fight.   
  


After a couple of moments Kepla makes a gesture and Wolff is thrown off of his feet, quite vigorously. He lands on his backside in the red dust.   
  


Wolff rises, smiling, "You see Kepla, when we are standing still, I am stronger with the force than you are, because of my experience... When we fight, I have to focus my concentration on the fight, it makes me susceptible to influence."   
  


Kepla nods in understanding, "My see."   
  


Wolff continues, "Remember this, my padowan... When you're mind is preoccupied, you are much more susceptible to influence than otherwise. Keep this in mind when you are in a fight. Stay as calm as possible."   
  


He takes a breath, "The same goes for emotion too, the more emotional you get, the more susceptible you are to influence... Emotion is good and necessary, but you should be careful of where and when."   
  


Kepla nods in understanding, "Desa berry interesting!"   
  


Wolff pats the dust off of his uniform as he continues, "That is all for today... You've learnt a lot. Let's go inside and have supper."   
  


Kepla follows Wolff indoors. 

* * *

**Chapter 20 : Last Time At The Shooting Range**   
  


One of the main pastimes on Akrillia apart from drag racing, is shooting with long rifles. A conservative estimate is that every second person has more than two guns in his possession.   
  


Wolff is the only one still using chemically propelled projectile weapons. The other use either blaster- or electro magnetic propulsion weapons.   
  


He always caused a big scene when we came to shoot with the other. The other could never comprehend his weapons' simplicity, but they appreciate the immense dropping power, none the less.   
  


Except for his prize shotgun, Wolff had salvaged several arms from junk dealers around the solar system. He restored the rifles with the care and perfection he could manage.   
  


The R1 automatic rifle had replaced his four gauge as his main weapon of combat when he is out on his missions.   
  


The rifle is almost identical to the one he had in the EDF army. He often wonders about where the junk dealer had gotten it... Wolff would sometimes reach the point where he thought that, maybe, somehow, some of his people are still alive... Usually at that stage, he would fall hardly back to reality, shake is head, sigh and carry on with his work.   
  


Wolff used to shoot a lot, but the financial crisis had brought this to an end too. He now only shoots on special occasions and when he trains Kepla.   
  


Wolff now only visits the range on some weekdays, since he doesn't want the people to see his gungan apprentice.   
  


*** 

He and Kepla stand under a flimsy steel roof, a hundred metres away from a row of unmatched steel cans.   
  


A barren dry landscape surrounds the shooting range. The two jogged here, carrying the rifles on their backs.   
  


Wolff takes the small rifle out of Kepla's sweaty hands and loads five more rounds into it. He hands the rifle back to Kepla, saying, "This is your last five shots... See if you can hit the second one from the right."   
  


Kepla lies down, the rifle pressed firmly against his shoulder. He squints as he takes a careful aim. A shot bursts out. A can topples as the small bullet penetrates.   
  


Kepla looks up.   
  


Wolff nods.   
  


Kepla reloads and the spent cartridge flies from the smoking chamber.   
  


He takes an aim and quickly discharges the four remaining rounds into the can as well. "Ding! Dint! Denk! Pew," the battered can flips and rolls from the stinging bullets hitting it.   
  


Kepla is very pleased with himself. This had been a good day for him... He had only missed seven shots.   
  


Wolff takes the small rifle from Kepla and places it on the ground next to him. Kepla stands up, dusting his uniform.   
  


Wolff smiles sinisterly as he loads a shell into his four gauge and takes a standing aim. Kepla cups his hands over his haillu.   
  


The deep thunder of the four gauge tears across the landscape. A large 100 litre oil drum is blast to ribbons and flies backwards over.   
  


Kepla peers enviously. Wolff is tough built. He can handle that kind of power. The four gauge would sever Kepla's shoulder if he tried firing it.   
  


Wolff breaks open the four gauge. He sighs as he pulls out an expired shell rim and the shred cardboard casing from the right barrel. "That's his last shot..." Wolff agonises as he throws the smoking cartridge onto the ground.   
  


Wolff puts down the shotgun and takes his automatic rifle. His capable hands quickly grasp a clip of ammunition from his belt and he hooks it into the rifle's gaping chamber. He pulls back the lever.   
  


He pauses, steels a look at Kepla and burns loose on another oil drum. The drum dents as it is perforated by the mighty rifle. Dust puffs up from around the target as two stray bullet bleat and ricochet off into the sky.   
  


Kepla watches in admiration. He would never touch that monster gun in his life. Then, A question pops into his head.   
  


He asks inquisitively, "If yous be havin desa bombad wepons, why yousa be fightin wi dat cato sabre?"   
  


Wolff explains, "A rifle is just a weapon. It's a fact of life, any fool can pull a trigger and hope to hit something. The sabre is the weapon of the jedi. It's much more than just a weapon, it's a tool. A tool of combat, a tool of the force."   
  


Kepla doesn't understand, he asks, "Ba why yousan still be usin desan wepons den?"   
  


"I was properly trained to use them, Kepla. As I said, I've used this kind of weapon for the best part of my life. It kind of grows on one... Just because I'm a being of the force, doesn't mean that _I_ cannot rely on the laws of physics from time to time."   
  


He continues, "I've taken good care of these rifles, still, everything has a time and a place."   
  


Wolff sighs, "My ammunition supply is slowly drying up and the explosive powders are becoming harder to get every day. Some day, these rifles will be little more than memories of an era past."   
  


He ads, "When you become a jedi, you will not be taking anything of the kind with you... True jedi aren't allowed to use ranged weapons."   
  


Kelpa nods.   
  


Wolff remove the locks out of the guns and pack them into his bag.   
  


Wolff praises Kepla, "Oh, and I have to congratulate you. Your aiming has improved dramatically. I'm proud of you. Despite your dislike of these weapons, you kept on trying. You are busy reaping the rewards."   
  


Kepla feels flattered, "Tankyousan, Masta Wolffe."   
  


The two take on the sturdy jog home. The sun is blazing down now. This makes Kepla very glad about the sun-screen he has on.   
  


The two figures progress slowly up the rocky mountainside until they reach Wolff's bunker, just in time for lunch.   
  


*** 

Wolff spent the rest of the day working in his garage. He didn't want the gungan to see what he was doing there and told him to stay in the bunker. Kepla's curiosity nearly had him insane, but he obeyed his masters request and stayed indoors for the rest of the day. 

* * *

**Chapter 21 : Reloading**   
  


Wolff sits at his small reloading table in his garage. He stares haplessly at the spent .308 cartridges in the plastic bowl. They have been reloaded many times before, many more times than they had been supposed to.   
  


He agonises as he throws five of the ten into a trash can, "Now, where on Kati...huu...Akrillia will I be able to buy more of these..!?"   
  


Wolff sighs despondently.   
  


"Oh well, at least I have my sabre," Wolff tries to uplift himself as he slips on his goggles.   
  


He carefully weighs off five loads of propellent. With great care, he pours the powder into the cases.   
  


He presses on the bullet's tips.   
  


He continues doing this until he had reloaded all his whole cartridges. He now has fifty two in all.   
  


His shot shells are at an absolute premium. He has only got ten left. All of which had been re-loaded more than seven times over.   
  


Wolff pities himself, "Now, this is what happens if you insist on sticking with the technology that you trust and know!"   
  


He takes off the goggles and stretches himself. He yawns.   
  


Then, he smiles slyly as he takes an oblong object from his drawer. He leaves the garage for the bunker. 

* * *

**Chapter 22 : The Gift**   
  


Kepla sits on his bed, deeply meditating... His mind is in perfect harmony... His muscular gungan body focussed in perfect concentration. The dim light above him casts eree shadows on his for forhead.   
  


Kepla's lips move, as if he is saying something. He senses something is about to happen. He leaps up, just as Wolff enters the room.   
  


Wolff smiles, "You're sense of perception is outstanding... I'm impressed."   
  


Kepla asks, "Masta Wolff, yous wants to spake to mesa?"   
  


Wolff takes the oblong object out of his pocket and throws it at Kepla. He nimbly catches it in midair. His eyes widen as he realises what it is.   
  


"Is desa dein mesa cato sabre thingy?" he asks excitedly.   
  


Wolff replies calmly, "That is your sabre, Kepla. It's the weapon of the jedi."   
  


This makes Kepla feel warm inside. Finally, his master trusts him with his own weapon. About time too! Kepla had been fighting with sticks for the last three years of his life.   
  


He takes the sabre in his right hand and squeeze the switch. It ignites with a hiss. A white beam arcs outward, casting a long solid beam of energy. The glowing splendour fills the room and the heart of the young gungan. He waves it around in delight. 

The beam bends slightly as he waves it near the steel frame of his bed. He shuts it off. Wolff looks at him, swelling with pride.   
  


"Thankyous Wolff, desa be mening a yot to my..."   
  


Wolff promptly gives him a small lecture, "The weapon you are holding is your weapon of the force... Use it to serve the good cause of the jedi and you will never fall at the hands of evil. Never use it for your own gain, never use it as a tool of punishment."   
  


Wolff takes a breath, "Use it wisely and with discretion... May the force guide you in this, for your training here is almost at an end..." 

* * *

**Chapter 23 : Sabre Confrontation**   
  


Padowan and master stand facing each other under the fading evening sky. Their faces serious, their eyes squinted. They seem unaware of the cold wind blowing and their jackets flapping relentlessly in the wind.   
  


This time round, there are no sticks. What used to be a painful hit, has now become a fatal stab... They prepare to battle with real sabres.   
  


Wolff breathes deeply as he stares coldly at Kepla, with an expression of aggression on his face. Kepla is unmoved by this and stares ahead without expression.   
  


They brace as one. Two cathode sabres ignite and they engage each other aggressively.   
  


There is a mighty flash as the two sabres hit in midair. There is a loud crackling as Wolff presses on hard. Kepla bites his teeth as he resists the push.   
  


Wolff throws Kepla backwards using his brute strength. The agile Kepla falls back but retains his balance.   
  


Again the sabres meet. This time Wolff fights aggressively, dashing forward and stabbing at Kepla's unprotected stomach. The gungan evades Wolff's attacks with precision and care, but doesn't strike back.   
  


The fighting is furious. Bright flashes of light periodically spark as the two sabres clash in midair.   
  


Wolff makes a gesture with his right hand. Kepla squints and resists the throw. This makes him open for attack. Wolff's sabre swoops through the air. Kepla gets a cold shock as he blocks.   
  


"Wolffe's tryin to kill my!" Kepla secretly agonises inside his mind. He cannot dare loose his concentration now... He is fighting a being of the force. Losing one's concentration usually means losing one's life.   
  


Kepla tries his best to stay calm and controlled throughout. There is a break in the attack and the two stand staring at each other, sabres crackling away at their chests. Wolff is sweating and breathing hard.   
  


Kepla's face is slightly worried, almost begging Wolff to stop this lunacy.   
  


The two fighters engage aggressively once again. Kepla makes a gesture, throwing Wolff off of his feet, having him land on the cold, hard soil they are fighting on. He fakes injury, but Kepla doesn't rush to help him. The force tells Kepla that it is a delusion.   
  


Kepla stands patiently await as Wolff rises, peering angrily as he re-ignites his sabre.   
  


Again the two beings of the force engage in furious battle. Kepla feels a knob building in his throat. Wolff is indeed trying to kill him! His master and friend he loves so dearly is trying to kill him!   
  


With this realisation, Kepla focusses all his energy and throws Wolff. This time mercilessly, sparing all pleasantries. Wolff hickups as he is thrown off of his feet and hit the hard soil. His sabre falls from his hands and he is genuinely hurt.   
  


Kepla swiftly approaches Wolff with his blazing sabre. Wolff quickly sits up, with a scared expression on his face. He lifts his left hand upon high, in line with Kepla's blazing sabre. He is begging for mercy.   
  


Seeing this, Kepla's serious face turns sad. He kills his sabre and stands pitying, angrily.   
  


Wolff's breath is racing. He has badly hurt at his ankle in the fall.   
  


"Ey!!! Whatsay yous doing dere! Yousa getn my killed!" Kepla demands to know.   
  


Kepla bites his lip and agonises, "Mysan almost killen yousan! Bombad! Yousa be losin it?!"   
  


Kepla throws his arms into the air as he continues, "My toght wesa come ear to practice... No! Wesan trying to keel eacatha!"   
  


Wolff seems to ignore Keplas complaining and moans, "I'm hurt Kepla... please help me inside."   
  


Kepla hesistates, no quite at ease with Wolff's sudden change in heart. But he eventually concedes.   
  


Kepla's strong right arm lifts Wolff to his feet.   
  


Wolff limps.   
  


He walks, staggering, slowly along, held upright by the gungan. He bites his teeth to suppress the pain, as he is taken indoors, and to his room. Kepla lets him sit down on his bed and then leaves to go and fetch the dropped sabre.   
  


*** 

Wolff hears the front door close.   
  


A few minutes later, Kepla enters his small room, sulking. He drops Wolff's sabre down onto the table in front of his bed.   
  


Wolff lays with a white bandage he tied around his ankle. He is tired, but smiles meekly as Kepla sits down in a chair aside his bed.   
  


Wolff speaks out, "Thanks for your help..."   
  


Kepla is still angry and confused, "Masta Wolffe, yous be tellin my... how."   
  


Wolff continues, "I've never seen anyone fight the way you did back there. You fought with your whole mind, your whole body, your whole self."   
  


Kepla looks up from the bandage. His cyan eyes are sad, still longing for a reasonable explanation. Wolff sees this and apologises, "I'm terribly sorry to have put you through that. I feel very bad. I could see into your heart, you truly believed that I was out to kill you back there."   
  


Kepla admits, "My being berry sacred, but mysan be supressin mysa fears. Like yousan tellin."   
  


"You make me proud my padowan. You not only demonstrated your skills in fighting, but also kept your emotion well out of the fight... That lead you to victory."   
  


Kepla feels better at hearing this. Seems that his earlier fears had been irrational and nonsensical. He then feels bad about it, and readily apologises, "My berry sorry for letn yousan get ouchie..."   
  


Wolff shakes his head, lifting both of his hands, "No, please don't apologise. I'm the one who should be apologising. What I did to you was far more painful."   
  


He sighs and promises, confidently, "I promise, Kepla, I will NEVER put you through such an exercise again."   
  


Kepla smiles as he hears Wolff's warming words.   
  


"Don't worry about me now, Kepla. I'll feel better in the morning."   
  


Wolff ads, as an afterthought, "You can go now, if you like."   
  


Kepla doesn't get up. He much prefers sitting down aside Wolff's bed. In the past two minutes, he has acquired newfound respect for his strange master. He feels warm and safe at his bedside.   
  


*** 

Wolff sat reading, several hours into the dark windy night. Kepla eventually fell asleep in the chair after sitting for too long. For although Kepla found victory, the fight had tired him out.   
  


Wolff sighs as he takes a last longing look at Kepla, before killing the light. He troublesomely covers himself in sheets and sighs, "Yea. That's life. Good night Kepla Rass, my padowan."   
  


A few moments of total silence and darkness pass and then Wolff seems to ask the dark, "How will I break the news to him... What will his reaction be!"   
  


Indeed. The time for Kepla to leave Akrillia has arrived. After tonight's fight, Wolff is convinced of what he had been suspecting for quite some time now... He cannot teach Kepla anything more than he already knows... Kepla now needs the guidance of a true jedi, to complete his training.   
  


He sighs.   
  


Kepla's snoring doesn't bother him and he quickly finds his own rest. 

* * *

**Chapter 24 : The Truth**   
  


Two jogging figures move up to winding path up on Signal Hill. Their dark silhoettes are highlighted by the setting sun.   
  


Four long years had passed since Kepla started his training. He had grown from a frail gungan to a strong padowan, skilled in the use of the sabre and strong in the ways of the force. He runs up straight, like a soldier : his brown uniform folds comfortably around his sweaty body.   
  


His green skin glistens. His haillu tied to his back, the cloth pocket hopping up and down as he leads Wolff up the hill.   
  


Wolff lags behind. He is now almost fifty years old and this is showing. He has had a long and active life. Been a soldier, he has fought in many great wars and seen much death. He has been a nomad and has traversed two giant solar systems. He fought in an epic war... has become a warrior of the force and has trained his apprentice, Kepla Rass, to the point of being his own superior.   
  


At the top of the hill, Kepla comes to a standstill. His breath barely rushing. Wolff stops behind him a few moments later.   
  


Kepla asks deeply concerned, "Masta Wolff? Yous being okey-de? My be sensing dersa somethin makin yous feel berry sad today."   
  


Wolff answers calmly, "Not sad, Kepla... But your feelings are correct... I'm not feeling as good as I would like to."   
  


"Wesa spake bout dat?"   
  


"Kepla, it's been almost four long years of training... Though it felt like a lot less."   
  


Kepla feels gravely concerned, he has never heard his master speaking in such a tone before, "Wolffe?"   
  


"I've trained you to the best of my ability... And it's with great admiration that I admit, you are my superior, both mentally and physically. The only thing that stands between you and being a true jedi, is a few months official training and a couple of tests..." Wolff pauses and smiles meekly, "Neither of which will pose a challenge to you."   
  


Kepla feels honoured, but still has a bad feeling about Wolff's temperament. He sighs, and turns towards the cliff edge.   
  


The two gaze out over the horizon. It is the exact same sight that greeted them so many years ago when they went on their first jog. Akrillia has changed little... true, old Epsilon has died of age, but the same small town still stands amidst the same red hills... The same lone railway train runs to and from town every day. The same lonely bunker stands on the same barren platau.   
  


A chilling breeze is blowing and sand whips their backs. Wolff speaks again, "Kepla, the time has come for you to go your own way. You have to embrace your destiny some time very soon..."   
  


Kepla didn't really expected Wolff to say something like this. It makes him feel utterly insecure. He sais, asking, "Yous sayin my be leavin? Bombad! Wha my be doin without yous?!"   
  


Wolff's gut wrenches as he readily admits, "Akrillia has no more to offer you, Kepla."   
  


Kepla pleats, "Ba wesa be goin togetha!"   
  


Wolff smiles longingly, "For a while Kepla. I shall stay with you until you are ready to go on your own." he sighs, "I am getting old Kepla... I am okay for the time being, but I cannot stay with you forever."   
  


Kepla frowns, "Yousa being no more dan fifty! How yous be tinkin of retirin!"   
  


Wolff understands this gesture. Gungans can get up to two hundred years in age... Humans don't. Wolff's race, especially, isn't known for their longievity. They usually live no more than seventy five.   
  


"My race doesn't live that long, Kepla. You gungans have been blessed with long fruitful lives. We recidians live short hectic lives. It's just the way it is."   
  


Wolff ads, almost bluntly, "Blame evolution if you like."   
  


Kepla didn't know what Wolff had just told him. This saddens him dearly.   
  


Wolff had been a father and a teacher for the best part of his life... The idea of going on without him is inconceivable. He drops his head in grief.   
  


Wolff places his left hand on Kepla's right shoulder, trying to cheer him up.   
  


Kepla, going against all military law, gets very emotional at times. This had been one thing Wolff could easily, but wouldn't take away from him. Wolff had suffered enough, not being able to express his own emotions in times of sorrow.   
  


Whenever Kepla felt sad or cried, Wolff watched sympathetically. He had taught the young one to work negative emotion out of his system with meditation and rationalisation, rather than suppression and rage.   
  


"My be..." Kepla starts, but stops and shakes his head.   
  


The sun had almost gone down now.   
  


The two jog back without speaking a word. They reach the front door just before darkness engulfs the landscape.   
  


*** 

Kepla didn't want to eat that night. Wolff felt guilty, almost responsible, for Kepla's grief. Still, he knew that he had no choice. He had to tell him. One way or the other.   
  


Kepla went to bed early. At the first light of day, they would pack his bags and take the sturdy jog down to the airfield, to fetch the Javelin. 

* * *

**Chapter 25 : Departure**   
  


The flying field is particularly busy today. Small craft take off and land at leisure. Large tanker ships stand docked at the fuelling point, taking Akrillia's precious fuel to sell on other planets in the system.   
  


Though sad, Kepla stares in awe. This had been the first time Wolff had brought him to the flying field on a weekday.   
  


Today, it doesn't matter of the other see him. To them, Kepla might just as well be day visitor, somebody lonely enough to come and visit ol' Hermit Eghbar on the barren plateau behind the 'first hill.   
  


Wolff and Kepla often came here on weekends to practice his flying. Wolff knew, that if something had to happen to him, Kepla would need to be able to fly this flagship of his people's ingenuity, the Javelin. Wolff trained Kepla accordingly.   
  


The two enter the barracks where Javelin stands stationary, ready for takeoff.   
  


Wolff had fled his home planet in one of these, shortly before his people died in a terrifying storm of fire and radiation. This happened more than twenty six years ago.   
  


Wolff was very proud of his craft and kept it cleaned and fuelled. It provided him with transport for the many years he had been a nomad... until it was shot down and destroyed by the Trade Federation over Naboo, on that fateful day that changed his life forever.   
  


After the battle of Naboo, Wolff successfully sued the Trade Federation for compensation. He used this money to have his Javelin rebuilt, down to the last exacting detail. The Naboo Aerospace Corporation found building this boxy craft a breeze, to such an extent that Wolff could retire with the remaining credits. They added a hyper-drive and touches of chrome to the tail wings, as a token of gratitude in him helping them fight in the great battle.   
  


Kepla helps Wolff get into the cockpit, before he jumps in himself. He shuts the space locks and takes a seat.   
  


"Would you like to fly, Kepla?" Wolff asks, offering Kepla the pilot's seat.   
  


Kepla turns down this offer, "My no be feelin so goot... Yous go ahed..."   
  


Wolff nods understandingly, and takes a seat. After putting on his seatbelts, he flicks the many toggle switches needed for takeoff.   
  


The Javelin is an ancient craft, missing many of the finer touches seen as standard on modern craft. For one thing, it doesn't have a visual comm link. People communicating with Wolff often find a, "No Visual Carrier Detected" message plastered on their fancy holographic displays; often to their intense frustration.   
  


The Javelin is one of the last space craft to use the ultra-high-energy liquid fuel dehethrium, making it incredibly powerful and fast, but also very vulnerable to attack. In offense, the Javelin is equipped with twin discharge cannons and two EM chainguns, no blasters whatsoever. Blasters require a different kind of engine and a different kind of pilot, one willing to aim.   
  


The engines roar as the Javelin leaves to the barracks and lifts off into the air. Wolff flies lowly, so that Kepla can take a last look at Akrillia.   
  


The young gungan looks, longingly, down over the wing as Akrillia's red soil and rocky mountains roll by beneath them.   
  


Minutes later, they land close to Wolff's bunker.   
  


It is a sombre day for Kepla. This is the last time in a long time that he was to see the lonely bunker that has been his home for the last four years. He sighs deeply as he loads his rugged bags into the craft's baggage compartment.   
  


Wolff had packed him several tough uniforms, as well as a couple of odd little things... Like a pot of sun screen, a piece of rope, a polished 4.5 mm round and a photo he had taken of Kepla when he had just arrived.   
  


"Is that the lot?" Wolff asks.   
  


Kepla replies sadly, "Yea... Dissan bein all... My just take one more looksee... Okey-do?"   
  


"No problem."   
  


Wolff sits patiently as Kepla takes a last longing walk around the bunker. He sighs, almost greeting the place, "Itsa bein nice... Maybe my be sein yousagin one day...?"   
  


With this, Kepla climbs into the cockpit. The space locks engage as he shuts the opening.   
  


The Javelin roars as Wolff pulls it into a steep climb... Soon, they surpass the atmosphere.   
  


The red mining planet of Akrillia fades in the distance as Kepla stares longingly out of the back window of the cockpit, deeply wondering what lies ahead for him. 

* * *


	5. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# The Outsiders, The Forgotten 

**Chapters 26 - 31**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 26 : The Jedi Council   
  


The journey to Coruscant was long and uneventful. Shortly after arriving, Wolff and Kepla disembarked to a low-cost hotel where they could stay whilst Kepla did his admission tests.   
  


On the second day of being there, Wolff took Kepla to meet the Jedi Council.   
  


*** 

Mace Windu looks up as the two enter, "Ah, you're here at last... We foresaw your arrival. Welcome, Wolff."   
  


He looks at Kepla and greets, "Hello, young gungan, we're especially glad to see you here."   
  


Kepla greets carefully, "Hello, sa."   
  


Yoda greets, seemingly excited, "Aaah...!"   
  


Kepla peers carefully at the assembled. He had never seen such a strange assortment of beings together in his life... His attention soon returns to his master.   
  


Wolff speaks, "Greetings, Jedi Council. Seems you already know why I'm here."   
  


"Indeed... You have brought us your padowan..." Mace Windu answers him nodding.   
  


A brief moment of silence passes, and then Yoda starts speaking again, "A gungan, we have not tested before. Know what to expect, we do not."   
  


Wolff looks up, his face straight, not showing any emotion. He is keeping his cards close to his chest this time, he doesn't want the council to mess with his head again. It was bad enough the first time.   
  


All the assembled close their eyes. Kepla's eyes shut impulsively. Wolff's don't. He actively resists the force.   
  


He sighs as the jedi council tests Kepla's psyche. He stares at them and out of the window. 

It's late afternoon on Coruscant. Long ques of vehicles glide effortlessly in the traffic lanes. Like always, a magnificent sight.   
  


Kepla opens his eyes in a controlled fashion. He is followed by the council members.   
  


Yarael speaks out, swaying his head too and fro, "The gungan is strong... He is a good candidate."   
  


Yarael stretches his neck and speaks to Wolff, "You have done a fine job, Wolff... I commend you."   
  


Wolff doesn't reply, he just nods. Secretly thinking, "Yeah, not bad for someone _you_ refused to make a jedi knight, now is it?"   
  


Mace Windu speaks out, "You have done a good job Wolff."   
  


Yoda speaks, "Aaah... Sensing a fear in him, I do!"   
  


Kepla frowns.   
  


Yoda continues, "Afraid of losing your friend, you are, hmm?"   
  


Kepla's jaw drops. He had hidden that fear so deep, that he himself found it hard describing exactly where it is hidden... "How yous be knowin!" he demands to know angrily.   
  


Wolff stares angrily at Kepla for his outburst. Kepla apologises, "My sawwy."   
  


Mace speaks out, "I sensed it too, master Yoda... But with all due respect, I think you are a bit stringent..."   
  


Yoda smiles sinisterly, "A fear it is... A problem, it's not."   
  


Mace seems to ignore Yoda's comment and speaks out, "Padowan, you will meet your jedi master, first thing tomorrow morning... You may go now. I would like to have a word with Wolff in private."   
  


Kepla smiles as he turns around and leaves the council room. The door shuts behind him.   
  


Wolff turns and asks, "What is it, Master Windu?"   
  


Mace starts explaining, "It is nothing strange for young Jedi candidates to have visions the night before their training..."   
  


Wolff replies, "I wouldn't know that, please explain."   
  


Mace continues, "It's the way of the force to complete any unfinished business, so the padowan can complete the course without any negative influences."   
  


Wolff rubs his chin, "Interesting."   
  


"If Kepla has any visions of the kind, you have a duty, as his former trainer, to follow it up without delay."   
  


Yoda chips in, "A duty you have, neglect it, you dare not!"   
  


Wolff looks up, "Thank you for the advice... I'll be mindful."   
  


Mace Windu seems satisfied.   
  


"It's been nice seeing you again, Wolff. Tell Kepla to rest well... He is up to it, but it is by no means going to be easy."   
  


Wolff greets, "Will do. It's been an honour, yet again."   
  


He turns around and leaves the room and meets Kepla in the passage.   
  


Kepla is ecstatic at the council's approval, he speaks out as he strolls casually along the lushly carpeted passage, "Masta Wolffe, desan bein a mooie mooie day for my. Mysan tank yous for desa goot trainin... Mysan be feelin mooie pwepared how!"   
  


Wolff replies sombrely, "Nothing to it, Kepla. Nothing to it."   
  


*** 

The two left the temple by air taxi and returned to their hotel. They didn't speak on their way back, though. Kepla sat pondering about what lied ahead. Wolff sat peering, longingly, out the window of the taxi, over the city-scape of Coruscant.   
  


The taxi arrived in due time and Wolff and Kepla departed to their separate rooms.   
  


*** 

The hotel is far from luxurious. The rooms are small and the public bathrooms are on the hundredth floor, down. The passages are uncarpeted and there is a lot of noise coming from some of the rooms. The food is awfully plain.   
  


Kepla spent the day inside his room, mediating. Wolff spent the rest of the day updating his journals and diaries in his room down the passage.   
  


The day dragged on. The afternoon became late afternoon, and the late afternoon became evening. Wolff went to bed early after having a tasteless ball of "Generic Human Food Mixture #4" in the crowded eating hall for supper.   
  


He didn't see Kepla with an eye. Secretly, he wondered what the young gungan was thinking of. 

* * *

**Chapter 27 : Kepla's Vision**   
  


Industrial Revolution Overture - Jean Michel Jarre   
  


There is a frantic knocking at Wolff's room door. He sits up in his bed, awaken by this. He frowns. It's very early in the morning on Coruscant and he isn't expecting any visitors at this hour.   
  


He switches on the bed light and gets up. He takes his sabre and walks to the door. He carefully opens it up.   
  


Kepla stands in front of the door, he is utterly distressed. Wolff sighs and demands to know, "What is it, Kepla. Why do you wake me this time in the morning?"   
  


Kepla barely lets Wolff complete his sentence, "Wolffe! Wolffe! Mysa bein glad my be findin yous! My be spake to yous _immediately_!"   
  


Wolff sighs haplessly, "Okay, Kepla, come inside."   
  


Kepla enters Wolff's room and takes a seat. Kepla is not himself. Wolff is still dumb struck at Kepla erratic speech.   
  


"Okay, now, please! Calm down and tell me about it."   
  


Kepla gulps and starts, "Wolffe... My be habin desa tewibble vision, just now! My be rememberin desa tree numbas!"   
  


Wolff's eyes widen. He takes his diary from the side of his bed. He opens it at a clean page and hands this, along with a pencil to Kelpa, "Write them down, before they leave your head."   
  


Kepla grabs the pen and jots down three crude numbers on the piece of paper. Wolff stares through his heavy eyelids.   
  


Three, five digit uni-code numbers glare at them from the page. Kepla sighs in relief and his breathing turns more normal.   
  


Wolff frowns, "Hey...! These are relative space coordinates."   
  


He takes a puzzling look at the numbers, "The reference is outside of this system... Looks like the Parowa system if you ask me... I've never heard of a planet in that vacinnity, though."   
  


Wolff rubs his chin pondering the three numbers.   
  


Kepla agonises, "Masta Wolffe! My be habin desa tewibble vision 'bout desan planet! My be seein desan terwibble tings hapenin!!!"   
  


There is a mighty convergence in the force. Wolff turns cold as the immense energy of the force rushes through him, he coughs dryly.   
  


With this, he drops his head into his palms and thinks deeply. Kepla sits watching, his heart pounding.   
  


Wolff sits in meditation for a few minutes and looks up. He starts seriously but controlled, "Go and pack your bags. We're leaving in half an hour's time... Meet me on the deck."   
  


Kepla is surprised ny the suddenness of this gesture, "Wha?"   
  


Wolff explains briefly, "Your vision needs immediate attention. The jedi council will just have to wait. The living force tells me that your vision is of absolute critical importance; We need to take off as soon as possible."   
  


Kepla is puzzled by this.   
  


Though terrible, he didn't think his vision would prompt such immense reaction. He sighs.   
  


Kepla leaves the room and walks down the cold passage towards his room. The hotel passage's light is dimmed.   
  


Load, thrashing rave music thumps from some of the rooms. For the listeners, this is just another night. Not for Kepla. The force wouldn't arouse such powerful imagery in his mind for nothing.   
  


Secretly, Kepla fears that something very sinnister is going on.   
  


***   
  


What seems like moments later, Wolff and Kepla sit buckled inside the cockpit of the Javelin.   
  


The engines are running, and Wolff is busy getting take off clearance. He grasps the communicator and speaks, "Coruscant Air Traffic Control, this is 472, over."   
  


A metallic voice answers, "High-Band router 53 responding... Reading you loud and clear, 472... continue..."   
  


Wolff continues, "Requesting permission to take off immediately."   
  


The metallic voice answers, "Granted."   
  


Wolff speaks again, "Requesting permission to leave atmosphere."   
  


There is a brief moment of silence. Kepla bites his fingernails. The whole situation has given him a fright. He doesn't understand Wolff's impulsive reaction.   
  


The metallic voice speaks again, "Granted... Use gateway 2334, 2319, 8432... over and out."   
  


The Javelin climbs steeply into the open skies of Coruscant. The early morning sun colours the steel horizon a spectacular magenta. Through the windscreen, Kepla sees the early morning air traffic picking up pace.   
  


They leave the atmosphere and enter outer space.   
  


Fade Out Music

* * *

**Chapter 28 : In Space**

Industrial Revolution Part 3 - Jean Michel Jarre   
  


The green CRT emits and eree glow as the Javelin powers onwards. Wolff is busy concentrating at the console, carefully typing in Kepla's coordinates.   
  


The console informs Wolff that there is no such a planet. Wolff overrides the console, forcing the navigation system to comply.   
  


He flicks a couple of large toggle switches. The Javelin goes into automatic pilot. Wolff sighs in relief and stretches his arms, yawning.   
  


Except for the glow of the console and the LEDs, the cockpit is dark as night. Kepla sits staring, still uncertain of what's going on.   
  


He asks carefully, "Wolffe? Wha wesan doin... how?"   
  


Wolff turns to the side and answers, "The living force is guiding you and me to an unknown planet... I don't know where we're going, but I know this : it's of the utmost importance that we be going there right now."   
  


Kepla lies back in his seat, sighing. He mumbles, "Desa bein berry bombad strange."   
  


Wolff looks up at him, "Try to work your vision out of your system. We have to coordinates, you have no need for the excessive emotional baggage any more."   
  


Kepla nods. He closes his eyes and tries to rationalise his fears. For him, the fourteen hour journey flies past. They soon approach the unknown planet.   
  


Fade Out Music

* * *

**Chapter 29 : The Mysterious Planet**   
  


Equinoxe Part 3 - Jean Michel Jarre   
  


Kepla is rudely awoken by the shudder as the Javelin switches to manual control. He quickly peers out the windscreen. A rocky desert planet, with a large section of green, drifts silently below them. "Bombad!" he exclaims in surprised shock.   
  


"Hang on tight..." Wolff commands as he initiates the automatic atmosphere bridge. The green glowing CRT flashes scrolling lines of text.   
  


Wolff sits back in his seat as the Javelin descends into the atmosphere of the unknown planet below them.   
  


Despite the intense rationalisation, strange and abstract emotions still plague Kepla's mind.   
  


He still doesn't understand or comprehend, as he sits staring ahead. The force is trying to tell him something, but he doesn't know what. Wolff senses it too, but for some reason, it doesn't bother him that much.   
  


Wolff's capable hands take a firm grip on the controls as they descend downward. The Javelin's engines shudder as they switch to atmosphere combustion. The cockpit lights dim periodically and several blue LEDS light up.   
  


"Masta Wolff," Kepla starts, "my be havin berry kweer feelins 'bout desa landin..."   
  


Wolff replies instructively, "Be mindful, Kepla... If it makes you feel any better, I'm having some rather complex thoughts myself."   
  


Kepla looks out the windscreen. They have entered the green side of the planet. A lush green forest stretches out below them.   
  


"We'll be touching down soon," Wolff utters in concentration as he slows down the craft. The Javelin roars as it gracefully descends onto an open area in the darkened woods.   
  


There is a shudder.   
  


"We've landed... Prepare to disembark." Wolff commands as the craft's engines power down and die.   
  


Kepla asks, "Yous be taking yousa rifle? Maybe..."   
  


Wolff replies, "Yes, I think I will... Hopefully I won't be needing it."   
  


He takes his R1 and his sabre. The two quickly disengage the space locks and open the cockpit.   
  


Kepla's padded feet hits the soft soil with the grace of a cat. Wolff shuts the cockpit and jumps off too. He lands harder, but also controlled and with great care.   
  


Wolff stands wondering for a while and then gives too, "Kepla... Your feelings guided us here, you lead the way."   
  


Kepla nods as he starts walking carefully into the dark woods. Wolff follows.   
  


Fade Out Music   
  


***   
  


The woods are perfectly still as the two move forward gracefully... Still, they can't help the cracking of twigs underneath their feet.   
  


"Stop!" Wolff whispers shrilly, Kepla stops dead and listens, "I hear something...!"   
  


The two look around them. They fear breathing... They are being followed. They hear nothing now.   
  


Kepla cries lowly, "My has berry bombad feelin 'bout des!"   
  


"Shut up!" Wolff orders. He flaps his hand to quiet Kepla.   
  


He barely finishes when there is an immense scuffle in the woods around them. Wolff reaches for his rifle. Kepla attempts to take out his sabre.   
  


A faint hissing erupts from the brush. Three darts hit Wolff in the neck! He mumbles something as he falls into a heap. Kepla panics, "Noooo!!!" but his muffled cry dies away as two darts hit him in the shoulder.   
  


Kepla drops onto the cold soil.   
  


A triumphant group of gungans appear from the woods. They have long reeds in their gloved hands. They wear sturdy leather armour and floppy jackets. Some of them man yellow kaadu-like steeds.   
  


The second in command glares at the victims in the dimming light, "Yook! Hesa gunga!"   
  


The others stand closer, "Bombad! Desan real booboo..."   
  


One approaches and attempts to take the darts out of Keplas neck. The leader stops him with his right hand, "No! Yous no be taken dem out... Let dem sleep goot now... Wesa taken dem to de bosses... Der wesa spake."   
  


"Yous guys, disan arm dem!" he commands.   
  


Five gungans strip the fallen of their weapons.   
  


One of the soldiers take Wolff's rifle in his right hand and takes a surprised look at it.   
  


"Ey! my be remeberin desa... maybe..." he shakes his head, "No. My be dreamin... My no be seein disa befaw..."   
  


Wolff and Kepla's lifeless bodies are bound and loaded onto kaadu. They are carried off into the woods, closely followed by the triumphant gungans. 

* * *

**Chapter 30 : Kepla's Reunion**   
  


Wolff hangs suspended in an upright position. He is bound to a wooden pole, in the full view of the assembled gungans.   
  


It's early morning and the suns beats down on the clearing.   
  


Kepla is bound to a similar pole, a couple of metres away. All kinds of gungans are assembled here, females with siblings, young gungans and gungan soldiers with cold expressions on their faces.   
  


The guards form a protective barrier between the two poles and the unarmed gungan civilians, but everyone seems keen on seeing what happens. Some younger gungans peer curiously from their parent's shoulders.   
  


An important-looking gray gungan stands observing Wolff with angry squinted eyes.   
  


Wolff wakes abruptly. He has a terrible, stinging headache. He tries to reach out and touch his neck, but his hands are tied behind his back. He jerks his arms, but the tight ropes keep them securely bound.   
  


The assembled gungans chatter excitedly as they see two awakening and the gray gungan approaches Wolff first... "Yous!" he shouts angrily.   
  


The assembled quiet down in anticipation. Wolff troublesomely lifts his head.   
  


"Yous bein human captor!" he shouts and turns towards the assembled gungans. He asks sarcastically, "Yousa know, what wesa do, to captors?"   
  


As one they answer, "WESA OUCH DEM!"   
  


A great deal of shouting and cheering breaks out as two dark gungans approach Wolff.   
  


One carries a piece of hard thick rope, the other carries a ceremonial knife. Both their heads are covered in black cloth, their armour is black too. They are executioners.   
  


Wolff turns cold. He frantically jerk, tries to break free. All in vein. He is tied up good. Not even his jedi powers can save him now.   
  


Seeing all this, Kepla's eyes widen and he cries, "No! Yous be makin desa tewibble meestake!"   
  


The crowd silences and the executioners stop, taking an apathetic a look at him. The gray gungan turns towards Kepla and asks, "Whats bein yous?"   
  


Two other guards untie Kepla. They harshly drag him over and make him kneel before him. 

Kepla pleats again, "Wesa be meaning no harm to yous, boss guy. Pweez hab mercy!"   
  


"Who yous?" The boss asks again angrily, "What yous gunga be doin in human clothes? Wha bein yousa haillu?"   
  


"Me... my called Kepla Rassss, mesa gungan jast like yous... My be meanin no harm." Kepla's voice trembles as he speaks out. Deep down inside, he wonders whether he had done the right thing or not.   
  


He feels very scared and utterly insecure about the whole situation at hand.   
  


The boss takes a good look and sniffs the air around him. Silent chattering bubbles up from the crowd.   
  


Kepla feels the boss touching his haillu-pocket at his back. It is vigorously pulled it off.   
  


Kepla feels his haillu roll out over his jacket.   
  


The crowd seem very amazed to see this.   
  


The Memory of Trees - Enya   
  


The gray gungan seems surprised, "Mooie! Yousa bein weal gungan!"   
  


Kepla rises slowly, rubbing his strained wrists.   
  


Wolff observes helplessly as the gray gungan points at him and asks, "Whosa dat?"   
  


Kepla replies, slightly relived, "Is name bein Eber Wolffe, he bein mesa gwand teacha guy. He bein goot friend."   
  


A great murmur breaks out in the crowd as a gungan soldier leaves his post and walks up to Kepla.   
  


He has a red skin texture... His eyes a flickering yellow.   
  


The gungan is in the prime of his life, having grown several short mustaches dangling from the side of it's snout. He wears tough leather armour like the rest of them, but he seems different... almost familiar, "Jar Jar?" Wolff stutters, his jaw dropping.   
  


The gungan soldier walks up to Kepla. He carefully sniffs the air around him and bites his lower lip for a brief moment. A tear appears from his eyelid. Suddenly, he exhibits a lavish smile.   
  


He throws down his reed, and embraces the young gungan, crying. 

The crowd is in turmoil, nobody seems to understand... Wolff does. He peers with a meek smile on his face as he observes the events, tied against the pole.   
  


Jar Jar cries dearly, "sob My boyos! Keplo Rass Binks! sob You... Yousss... comin... baaaaack!!!"   
  


Kepla cries dearly too, "Jaaa Jaa! sob Mesa... mesa... daddyos! How long my... no... see... yous... sniff" Kepla's heart pounds in his throat and the warm tears flow freely from his eyes. He feels them roll down his cheek as Jar Jar's folds his strong arms around him.   
  


The gray gungan's face becomes gentle and friendly as he sees the two crying gungans hugging each other.   
  


Wolff's feels his arms untied behind the pole... "Indeed," he speaks to himself, "...seems his notion was right... Seems that the young one's finally got the hang of things."   
  


Wolff rubs his strained wrists and sighs deeply. He has never been a very emotional person.   
  


The crowd seems to understand now as they cheer at the two gungans.   
  


Jar Jar takes his arms off Kepla and runs over to Wolff still sobbing with joy, "Wolffe! sob My neva, eva tough my be sein... yous... again..." Jar Jar stutters as he throws his arms around Wolff in a strong embrace of love and friendship.   
  


Wolff smiles lowly, but doesn't cry... He pats Jar Jar on the back and holds him tightly for a while. "It's nice seeing you again, my old friend, Jar Jar."   
  


Jar Jar moves away, turns to the crowd and shouts, "sob... Desa... call... faw mooie mooie cel-e-bration!"   
  


The gungans cheer at the peaks of their voices.   
  


Wolff wonders silently by himself whether the gungans actually remember his name. He shakes his head. That is not important now.   
  


The loud cheering is audible from far above the woods and doesn't seem to end.   
  


Wait For Music To Finish

* * *

**Chapter 31 : Trouble Brewing**   
  


Darth Polonius sits meditating at a small table in a dark room. Candles illuminate his ghastly face.   
  


Alaway enters the room and asks, "You wanted to see me?" as he sits down.   
  


Polonius looks up, "There is a terrible disturbance in the force, Alaway... I fear that the operation might be in jeopardy."   
  


Alaway leans on the table and answers confidently, "I've sensed it too... But operation isn't in joepardy. You should not jump to conclusions, Polonius."   
  


Polonius speaks again, "I foresee a gungan uprising, soon. I fear that our lives too, are in danger. I foresee two beings of the light side moving amongst us."   
  


Alaway replies, "If that be the case, Polonius, we have no option but to wipe out the gungans. Up until now, we've let the escaped gungans live, because we didn't want to waste our precious resources..."   
  


Polonius sighs, "I'll go and speak to the boss. I'll organise an army. You keep your mind open to the force, it'll guide us in our fight. Be mindful, the light side is to be taken seriously."   
  


Alaway leaves the room with an angry look on his face. In a sense, he fears that Polonius might be right... On the other hand, he doesn't want to believe it. He has worked very hard to keep this operation quiet. He knows that if this operation would collapse, he and Polonius would be tracked down and slain by Sidious' henchmen... He is more than convinced that they are both wanted for the murder of Tranquillitates and for accepting money for their 'services'.   
  


He curses as he walks along the marble hall of Ndi'Chro's palace. 

* * *


	6. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# The Outsiders, The Forgotten

******Chapters 32 - 37**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 32 : Celebrations   
  


Kepla had just finished telling his life story to Jar Jar. They sit at the end of a long table with some of the other gungan generals. Wolff is listening attentively, but doesn't say much himself.   
  


Amongst the attended, General Ceel, Captain Tarpals and Commander Baywal.   
  


The gungans celebrate the return of Jar Jar's long lost son. All kinds of festive gungan foods are being served. Kepla and his companions eat heartly, unlike Wolff. He seems to peer in from the sidelines.   
  


Wolff is having a tough time. Threatening, abstract visions plague him constantly, making it hard for him to think straight. He decided to fast, to try and clear his mind.   
  


Jar Jar notes this, "Yous no be eatin, Wolffe?" he asks seeming deeply concerned.   
  


"Thanks, Jar Jar, I know you mean good. My system is clogged with poison... I have to get in touch with myself," Wolff sighs, "even if it means not eating."   
  


Jar Jar nods sympathetically and changes the subject, "Wolffe, Keplo telsa my, yous bein Jedi? An yous maykey his jedi too?"   
  


Wolff informs them, "I am no jedi... And Kepla is only yet to become a Jedi Knight."   
  


His face lifts as he continues, "I've trained him to the best of my capability : He has vast talent in use of the sabre. He is agile, strong. His attitude is right, too. He is a very talented padowan."   
  


The assembled look at Kepla with newfound admiration and return their attention to Wolff.   
  


"... Sadly, I took from him the one thing that I wanted to give him most, the chance to be normal."   
  


Wolff continues sadly, "Kepla can never be a true gungan again... He is a being of the force now."   
  


Jar Jar replies throwing his hands into the air, "No! Desa bein okeydokey-de... Wesa no be carin what mesa son ees, hesa be mooie mooie welcome at wesa gungans!"   
  


General Ceel interrupts, "Wolffe, yous bein worried him not being real gungan... No! Wesa no real gungans either."   
  


Wolff frowns. Ceel continues explaining, "My dunno if yous be knowin... Wesa being prisoner hea."   
  


Wolff didn't know this, but it seems that Ceel is about to fill in the details.   
  


"Desa bein berry many yeas ago, wesa gungans bein captured by desa scavangers... Wesa being taken hea an wesa workin desa mines as slabes!"   
  


Tarpals takes over, "Wesa groupea gungans escaped from bombad mines and wesa start mooie mooie gungan city hea ina woods. Desa captors, dey coming an take us back. Wesa shoot dem captors... if wesa seesa dem first."   
  


Wolff notes, "That's why me and Kepla was shot the other day."   
  


General Ceel nods, "Wesa don have wesa gungan wepons, ba wesa make new wans from de woods... dem blowpias work mooie well!"   
  


Wolff rubs his sore neck and asks, "Where did you get kaadu? Where did the female gungans come from?"   
  


Jar Jar answers, "Desa kaadu, desa live hea ina woods... Desa wibes, desa also from Otha Gunga. Dem also desa scavengers doin, mesa tinks."   
  


Jar Jar suddenly seems saddened. A thought comes into Wolff's head, but Kepla jumps him to his question, "Ja Ja, whes mesa motha?"   
  


Jar Jar answers with a sigh, "Shesa still at Otha Gunga... Shesa no get caught... Mesa tinks."   
  


Kepla lifts his forefinger to his upper lip and then speaks out, "Mooie! My remebers! Aye... Ayena Binksss?"   
  


Kepla has sporadically regained a lost part of his childhood memory... that of his loving mother. This excites him a great deal.   
  


Jar Jar continues sadly, "My still be lovies hersa berry much, ba mysan no be sein her in may bom-bad yeas. Mesa bein berry, berry sad about dat. My miss hersa."   
  


Wolff listens sympathetically, but his thoughts dwell and he takes another look around.   
  


***   
  


The gungans are celebrating their hearts out. Their earlier misperceptions of Wolff and Kepla had completely vanished. Though, some of the younger ones still peer at him from the sidelines, in slight fear of their presence.   
  


Jar Jar continues talking to his son.   
  


Wolff turns towards the generals, "You say there are more gungans on this planet?"   
  


Ceel answers, "Desa biggest grouppe hea... 'bout tree handwed... An 'bout handwed ina camps."   
  


"What kind of adversaries are you facing?"   
  


"Desa soldia guys, desa 'bout faw handwed o desa... Dey hab bombad wepons, an bombad armour. In gwand atack, wesa don 'ave nota chance."   
  


Wolff wonders aloud, "Now, why would Ndi'Chro want a whole army just to keep a group of gungans workers captive?"   
  


General Ceel answers, "My tinks, hesan be runnin desan scam ting. Ebery now an den hesa send hesan army out to sam ather planet. My dunno what hesa bombad doing dere, but mesa tinks isa no yoot."   
  


"Probably doing some... negotiations," Wolff replies sarcastically. Things are starting to make sense now.   
  


He asks, "Do you anticipate an attack?"   
  


Tarpals answers, "Wesa has farlookseeas... Desa warn us... My tinks desa comin someday," Tarpals swells with pride as he places his hand on his chest, "Wesa be figtin to de last gungan!"   
  


Wolff is moved by his courage. After thinking for a moment, he speaks out, "If you can give me all the information you have on these guys, I'll help you choreograph a big attack... Take back your freedom... Go back to Otha Gunga."   
  


Ceel and Tarpals seem interested but remain unmoved, "Dersa problem, wesa no havin ship, wesa no be getting outa hea!"   
  


Wolff smiles, "I've a ship. I can go find help. It'd only take a day, or so."   
  


"My like des!" Tarpals comments excitedly, "Wolffe, yousa do dat."   
  


Wolff readily accepts Tarpals' offer. The three war veterans continue discussing the armed forces over the festivities.   
  


Ceel describes the foot soldiers in utmost detail, "Desa be havin tick armour... Wesa wepons, dey nosa bein makin bombad impression."   
  


He smiles, "Ba! Wesa gungans, wesa bein clever! Wesa be aimin for der neckss..." Ceel reaches out and touches Wolff's neck. He shudders... It's exactly where the human main artery flows! He feels a chill running down his spine, but refocuses and continues, "What other weapons do you have?"   
  


"Wesa be havin dem blowpia-blowpipes, wesa be makin desa dats ourselves..." Ceel continues, "Wesa also be havin gunga-knives an ston pockets."   
  


"Is that all?"   
  


"Apat fram wesa kaadu, wesa bein in berry unarmed, Wolffe."   
  


Ceel describes their adversaries' weapons with exacting detail. To Wolff's grief, it turns out that they are all equipped with EM propulsion rifles.   
  


These deadly weapons are rare today. A couple of years ago, they were regarded as being good alternatives to blasters. Eventually, their lacking range and bulky size caused their downfall.   
  


Their only advantage, apart from their enormous impact damage is their ability to penetrate force fields. Some older, larger space craft still have them. The Javelin has two of them, though Wolff had never needed to use them.   
  


Some soldiers carry napalm weapons... some are equipped with canisters of intoxicant, used to capture escaped gungans. All the soldiers all wear gas masks. They have thick padded armour, rendering most of the gungan weapons utterly useless.   
  


General Ceel also tells of a small squadron of star fighters. Of these, he doesn't know much. Wolff suddenly realises just how lucky they were to enter the planet without being seen or shot at.   
  


With further discussion, it turns out that Baron Ndi'Chro lives in a gigantic palace a few hours' walk from the woods. According to Tarpals, only one gungan has ever reported seeing him in person. An eighty year old spy managed to escape with his life after entering Ndi'Chro's palace on a scouting mission.   
  


Ceel tells of him seeing three robed bodyguards protecting him...   
  


After hearing this, Wolff claps his fingers and bites his lip. "Let me guess, that was more than four years ago?"   
  


Ceel squints, "How yous be knowin!"   
  


"Call it divine insight," Wolff agonises as he thinks back to his slaying of the mysterious character on Ghwarraba, "Ndi'Chro has hired siths to do his dirty work for him!"   
  


Things are starting to make sense now. Siths always work in pairs of two. Ndi'Chro obviously didn't know this and, in his paranoya, hired three. Inevitably, one of them would be killed by the other two. That scaly character Wolff had slain on Ghwarraba was, in all probability, the odd one out. He must have known that Kepla would bring Wolff to this planet in the future.   
  


Tarpals asks, "What's dem sith?"   
  


Wolff looks up and replies, "It's a being of the dark side. They wield immense dark powers of deceit and combat...", he frowns, "This complicates matters tenfold."   
  


Wolff sighs in despair. Only now does he understand the complicated emotions inside him; the force had been warning him of the dark presence all the time, he was just too preoccupied to understand it.   
  


He'll have to speak to Kepla about this, he realises the he had, foolishly, neglected to do so earlier...   
  


*** 

The festivities continued for the rest of the day. As evening fell upon the woods, the gungans slowly quieted down and retired to their huts.   
  


Wolff spent the remaining hours of the day in isolation. He sat on a small soil mound, drenched in deep thought, scribbling down his battle draft in his small pocket journal. 

* * *

**Chapter 33 : Kepla Learns About The Dark Side**   
  


Night is falling on the city. Two gungan sentinels walk around, lighting the big torches. They bring much needed light and security to the darkening city.   
  


In less than an hour's time, Wolff will address the gungan war generals on his battle plan. He has the best part of it worked out as he sits on his small mound, staring ahead into the dark woods.   
  


His many years of service in the EDF has given him a good dose of strategic experience. He never really used it extensively before... It seems that he is trying his hand at all manner of new things at this focal-point in his life.   
  


He sits pondering, his fore finger to his lip, listening to bustle of night sounds at the back of him. He hears the cold footsteps of a gungan at his back.   
  


Wolff turns around to find Kepla standing at his side. He is pleased to see this. Kepla had, indeed, sensed that Wolff wants to talk to him.   
  


Kepla spent the best part of the evening searching for him. He seems tired as he starts soberly, "Hey-do, Masta Wolffe. Mesa be sensin yous wants to spake to my."   
  


Wolff replies, "Yes, Kepla. There is something very important I must tell you now."   
  


Kepla folds his arms and listens attentively, "Wha be dat Masta Wolffe?"   
  


Wolff starts explaining, "We, as beings of the light side, are obliged to face beings of the dark side... Head-on in sabre battle."   
  


Kepla frowns and asks, "Desa dark side of wha, Wolffe?"   
  


"The dark side of the force, Kepla," Wolff answers, as a master answers his apprentice.   
  


Though Kepla has never before heard of the dark side, a hint of warning, an almost immediate anger flames up inside his gut. With the light side in his blood, he intuitively understands.   
  


Wolff continues, "According to the gungans, and my gut feeling, there are at least two beings of the dark side on this planet. Siths, as they are called."   
  


Kepla nods, "My be habin desan berry bad feelings too... Is de fawce tryin to warn my?"   
  


"Yes, Kepla, it is indeed. The force was trying to warn me too, but I was too pre-occupied to listen to it. I would have paid the price, had it not been for Ceel's information."   
  


Kepla stares downwards in deep thought. Though he would readily accept that he is a good fighter, he had never before fought to kill. As a matter of fact, he had not killed anyone in his entire life.   
  


There is a few moments of total silence. Kepla looks Wolff in the eyes and starts, "Masta Wolffe... yous no be tinkin desa bombad question... ba... whas it bein like... keelin somone?"   
  


Wolff's gut wrenches hearing this question. He really doesn't want to talk about it, especially not now, in his turbulent mind-set. He sits quietly for a couple of seconds, but after thinking it over, he decides that Kepla needs to know.   
  


He sighs and starts, "If you are a good natured person, killing someone is a terrifying experience. I killed numerous troops, back then in the trenches."   
  


Wolff gets an sadistic tone as he continues, "You know that the other guy is a soldier, just like you... That has a healthy body and mind, just like you. You know he is only obeying orders, just like you. Above all, if it had not been for the war, you and he might have been friends; shaking hands, sharing the joy that is life..."   
  


Wolff's face shows anger, "...But then, you lift your service rifle upon high and burn loose on the poor guy, as if he was a piece of worthless trash. The battering rattle of the rifle continues long after you've stopped shooting. His desperate agonising cries of pain echos through your sub-conscious mind for days on end... Though it fades, it never really dies away."   
  


Kepla blinks sporadically in cold stun. Wolff falls hard back to reality. He regrets his graphic outburst and quickly tries to remedy by adding, "This said though, the living force helps you when fighting a being of the dark side."   
  


Kepla frowns, holding his forefinger to his upper lip as Wolff continues, "It's a symbyote thing, you help the force to get rid of it's impurities... It, in turn, soothes away your guilt. It's rather sad, if you get real deeply philosophical about it."   
  


Kepla then nods in understanding, "My now unnerstand Wolffe. My mooie ope my neber has to keel a decent bein..." he pauses, "Yousay, de fawce be guiding my in desa fight?"   
  


"Yes, you can see it that way. I'm glad you understand, Kepla. And please, don't take my sad description to heart... Killing a sith is a whole different story."   
  


Wolff concludes his lecture, "Keep your mind open. Use every skill I taught you, to the best of your ability. Follow my advice, and you shall prevail, my padowan."   
  


A little overwhelmed, Kepla doesn't reply. He gives a small sigh instead.   
  


Wolff gets up, "I'm going to the gungan generals now... Your father is going to be there too. I think he would like to see you being there as well."   
  


"Okey, de, Masta Wolffe." Kepla accepts numbly as he follows Wolff into the flickering yellow-lit city. 

* * *

**Chapter 34 : The Battle Plan**   
  


Wolff, Kepla, Jar Jar, Tarpals, Ceel and a selection of other important gungans sit at a boxy table inside a timid hall. The walls are made of clay and sticks. The roof is fashioned of grass and sticky vines.   
  


Glowing spheres illuminate, casting eree white, moving shadows all around the room.   
  


There is a murmur as the group sits in waiting.   
  


Commander Baywal enters the room takes a seat at the end. "Wesa all hea? Den wesa beginnin. Wolffe?"   
  


Wolff rises and greets, "It's an honour to be here."   
  


The gungans nod as one.   
  


He starts, "With all the information I've received from you, I've analysed the situation. Sadly, it's not a pleasant picture."   
  


The gungans listen attentively.   
  


"On your own, you don't have much of a chance. That's why I have decided to seek out the help of The Naboo and the gungans of Otha Gunga. If I can organise a small army there, they can help you take victory."   
  


Baywal asks, "Yous anticipatin an attack? Or a wesa goin to make desa first move?"   
  


Wolff replies, "You must wait for them to attack. Their weapons are much better than your's. You cannot afford to give them the battle-field advantage too, even if it means losing the element of surprise."   
  


Tarpals asks deeply concerned, "Yousan realy tink desan being attackin us?"   
  


Wolff replies, "The siths most certainly know of me and Kepla's presence here. Most likely, they will convince Ndi'Chro to start authorising an assault. They know that they are in deep, deep trouble already.   
  


Jar Jar asks, "Wha wesan be doin now time bein?"   
  


"The journey to and from Naboo will take two days, max. There are two things I want you to do in the mean time."   
  


Kepla listens attentively. Of all present, he has the least military experience and he doesn't really have anything to add.   
  


"You must inform the slave workers, and somehow try to get them away from the mines, and into safety. Though slim, chances are that Ndi'Chro will ask for the termination of his workforce when the battle breaks out."   
  


Jar Jar is stunned by this, "Say what?"   
  


Wolff sighs, "It usually works that way. We are pulling out of the recession now. I'm sure Ndi'Chro has considered upgrading his workforce to droids."   
  


Jar Jar is worried at hearing this. Some of his friends are still enslaved there. He shudders.   
  


Wolff elaborates more, "If he starts using droids, he wouldn't need such a large army, he could lay off some of his soldiers and get greater returns on his operations."   
  


Ceel comments, "Bombad! Desan being big doodoo..."   
  


"Indeed, his soldiers aren't going to take prisoners this time round. They are going to wipe out, left right and centre."   
  


Jar Jar asks, "Wha about wesa chillun? ...an wesa wives?"   
  


Wolff sighs, "They too. These people are heartless. They won't spare a gungan."   
  


Kepla is worried at hearing this revelation, but he hides his fear.   
  


Baywal stands up and informs the table of his decision, "Mesa gwand forces be freein desa mine slabes. First squad take dem to desa secwet hidin place. Second squad be takin desa wives an chillun dere."   
  


He pauses, "If de soldias be moving into desa woods, wesa can enter des mine-area witout bein captord. Wesa can hanle 'bout twenty guard... orso."   
  


Wolff adds, "Your intelligence reports the palace itself being guarded by anti-aircraft shields. We won't be able to bomb it from above."   
  


"Baywal," Wolff hesitates, "can your squad help me and Kepla infiltrate the palace?"   
  


"Wesan can, Wolff, ba why yous wants to do dat?"   
  


Wolff sighs, "As jedi, I and Kepla are obliged to face the siths head on."   
  


Jar Jar is worried. He looks at his son. The idea of his son facing a sith is not at all a pleasant thought. He remembers the fiend, Darth Maul, who killed his master Qui-Gon so many years ago on Naboo. As if by chance, Kepla looks up at Jar Jar too. His deep flickering cyan eyes seem empty and void of emotion, as he is hiding his fear, better than ever before.   
  


Baywal places his fist onto his chest, "Wolffe, my decidin. Mesa squad be helpin yousa two... too. My and mesa first squad be helpin yous."   
  


Wolff nods and takes an object from his side pocket and throws it at Baywal. The nimble gungan catches it and takes a puzzling look at it.   
  


"It is a high-band radio transceiver. Use it to keep me updated on the battle. I'll quickly show you how it works, after the meeting."   
  


Baywals nods, "Okey," as he feels the small, but heavy radio in his right hand.   
  


"Are there any further questions?"   
  


Another gungan general rises and speaks, "Okey, Wolffe, wesan start tonite. Wesa prepare desan soldias faw battle and desan gwand forces, dey leave faw de palace. Wesa take wesa wives and chillun to desan secwet caves."   
  


"Good luck, gungans. Know that I admire your courage and bravery. May the force be with you."   
  


Wolff and Kepla rise as one.   
  


Kepla greets numbly, "Goodlucksa, mesa gungans. Same too, may desa fawce be wit yous."   
  


The other gungans rise and one of them greets, "Goodlucksa and goot bye yous two."   
  


With this, Wolff and Kepla leave the bunker.   
  


The most prominent gungans stay behind to discuss the battle. Jar Jar and Tarpals follow the two as to guide them through the woods towards the parked Javelin. 

* * *

**Chapter 35 : The Leave**   
  


It is dark in the woods. Tarpals and Jar Jar both carry fluorescent lanterns where they stand next to the Javelin.   
  


There is a long period of silence, then, Jar Jar procalims, "Wesa be waitin for yous den... Goodlucksa, mesa boyo an Wolffe."   
  


"Goodbye," the two greet numbly as one.   
  


Wolff and Kepla shake hands with the two gungans before swiftly climbing into the cockpit of the Javelin and prepare for takeoff.   
  


Jar Jar and Tarpals move back into the woods, observing at a distance as the Javelin's induction heaters turn a magnificent red. Minutes later the powerful thrusters spew white hot gas, pushing the space craft off of it's landing site.   
  


The Javelin lifts off of the ground and powers off into the night sky. A haze of flaming deheritium glows and fades, as the Javelin makes it's way off into the darkened veil.   
  


The two stand staring, until the light vanishes into the starry night sky.   
  


Jar Jar shuts his eyes and drops his head.   
  


It has been two very emotional days for him. Now he has to break the upsetting news to the gungan troops as well.   
  


He had changed little in the last twenty three years of his life. True, he has grown physically, and he has acquired a lot of military experience during his services to Otha Gunga and on this planet of blood, sweat and tears. In his heart, he still is the same ; a lonely, sensitive, good hearted gungan with an endearing respect for those around him.   
  


Jar Jar often found himself reminiscing about his past... All the adventures he had been through, all the things he had experienced.   
  


The presumed loss of his son, his wife and his friends had left him feeling sad and empty inside for the better part of his life. That sad emptiness had almost vanished in the past two days.   
  


As of now, he wants to appreciate it, but the impending battle seems an eminent and present danger. One he cannot avoid.   
  


Jar Jar feels Tarpals place his gloved hand on top of his right shoulder, "Come, Ja Ja, wesa get goin now."   
  


Jar Jar slowly lifts his head. He nods.   
  


Jar Jar and Tarpals disappear into the darkened woods. 

* * *

**Chapter 36 : Naboo**   
  


Wolff and Kepla kneel before Queen Amidala. She is extravagantly dressed as she sits on her throne. Some of her important ministers and chancellors sit close by, observing the spectacle.   
  


She greets friendly, "It's a pleasure seeing you again, Wolff... Welcome to you too, young gungan... What brings you two to my kingdom?"   
  


The two rise slowly.   
  


Wolff spares the pleasantries and gets to the point, "Your majesty, we've come across a gungan colony held captive on another planet by the notorious Baron Ndi'Chro."   
  


The Queens chancellors glare at each other. The queen thinks deeply. She seems to remember something as she starts speaking, "I remember, some years ago, before we got our surveillance system, there had been several gungan abductions."   
  


She pauses and continues, "We searched through all our channels but could couldn't locate them. Up until now, we thought they were lost for good. Seems that you have found them, after all these years."   
  


Wolff was unaware of this. He had spent most of his life in total isolation from current affairs, but he nods convincingly. "Your majesty, I fear for their safety... I sense great conflict brewing. On their own, the gungans cannot win."   
  


Wolff hesitates and gets to the point, "We need military support, your highness."   
  


The queen's face turn serious as she asks, "You would like the Naboo Royal Guard to help them?"   
  


"It would be a great honour your majesty"   
  


The Queen seems willing. She sits up in her throne, "I'd be more than willing, Wolff. We still owe the gungans for their help in defending our kingdom from the Federation."   
  


Kepla smiles at hearing this. He remembers that Jar Jar had often told him of that great battle when he was still very young. Kepla himself had not been born at the time it happened.   
  


The Queen thinks for a while. "You know our army is small, but sophisticated, Wolff. I'd be able to send hundred or so troops..."   
  


There is scuffle at the door as Boss Nass is escorted inside by a group of gungan officials.   
  


They troublesomely make their way to the seats reserved for them.   
  


Nass had been rushed to Theed via bongo. The queen summoned him when she heard that Wolff was on his way here on an important diplomatic mission.   
  


Wolff and Kepla kneel deeply before Boss Nass too.   
  


"Wolff...! He He! Mysa no be sein yousa faw some time now!"   
  


Nass takes a surprised look at Kepla and laughs, "Welcome yous too, mesa yaang little gungan... What bein yousa name?"   
  


Kepla looks up, "Hello, boss, sa, mysa name bein Keplas Rass Binksss."   
  


Nass seems surprised and frowns, "Yous dat lawst son of Ja Ja Binks? He! Desan being goot surprise hea today!"   
  


Wolff explains, "Boss Nass, we've located a colony of Gungan held captive as slaves on a mining planet. Amongst other, Tarpals, Ceel and Jar Jar."   
  


Nass lifts his finger to his lip, "Ummmmmh. Mesa remembers. Desan bombad scavenga doing?" He seems very angry at saying this.   
  


The Queen quickly explains, "Wolff is seeking military support to help liberate them from their suffering. I've conceded to send the Naboo guard and to supply as many carriers as they need."   
  


The Queen pauses, "Our army is sophisticated, but small. Your army is vast and grand. Are you willing to send troops into battle?"   
  


Nass thinks deeply, "Hmmmm.... Ofcourse!"   
  


Nass hammers his arm rest, "If dey bombad mess with mesa gungans, my pewnish dem bic bombad time! Mysa send faw haaaaaaandwed warrias! Blblblblb!"   
  


Wolff is relieved at hearing this. He nods satisfactory.   
  


"Thank you Nass, I knew you wouldn't abandon your own," The Queen praises his decision.   
  


Amidala speaks to her chancellor, "Please go and fetch my military advisor."   
  


Her attention returns to Wolff, "We are more than willing to help. I give you total control over my army, but maybe, you should talk to my commander first?"   
  


Wolff bows deeply, "Thank you, your highness." 

* * *

**Chapter 37 : Meanwhile... Trouble Brewing**   
  


A vast group of soldiers stand on perfect attention before an elevated podium, just outside the military base, near Ndi'Chro's palace. It's warm outside, even though there are clouds gathering in the sky.   
  


These men are all of Ndi'Chro's army. They all wear the same black and red uniforms. They all have khaki gas masks hanging from their necks and they are all armed with massive Class D em rifles. They stand on perfect attention, awaiting their daily dose of infoganda.   
  


Polonius steps up to the podium and taps the small microphone with his nail. Three loud pops thunder across the assembled... They seem to hear well enough.   
  


Polonius has always been a master of propaganda. He is now faced with the daunting task of sending Ndi'Chro's army into an assault on the gungans. He has an evil grin on his face as he starts speaking, "Greetings my friends and allies. This is, indeed, a momentous day for us all."   
  


The soldiers don't understand, but keep watching in perfect attention.   
  


"Today is the day, that we CRUSH those rebellious gungans!"   
  


Polonius pauses, sighs and continues, "They have given us nothing but grief my friends. They've killed many of our brave men... Through their escaping, they have taken vast amounts of money from this operation, and from you too, my friends."   
  


Polonius looks around to see if Ndi'Chro is listening. (Even though he knows that he is, indeed, watching it all the proceedings on the console in his office.)   
  


"Can I let you in on a little secret? Ndi'Chro told me that he wanted to give you all the raise. A raise you so dearly deserve for your loyal services... But he is unable to... Why you may ask? The answer is simple : For no other reason, but of those blasted escaping gungans!!!"   
  


Polonius seems saddened as he continues, "Ndi'Chro is a good man. Even though they don't deserve it. He gave them food and shelter. He gave them something to do in these sparse times we live in. And This, THIS is how they repay him..."   
  


Polonius is angry and hits the table, shouting, "Let me tell you, my friends, he is doing you a d*mn good favour sending you into battle. At last, you can have your revenge on those heartless barbarians."   
  


Polonius finishes seriously, "You are to spare no-one of them... Kill them all. You have my permission to use any method you like. Ndi'Chro will greatly reward you for your services. But the greatest reward will be that within yourself... The satisfaction of knowing that you have done the right and honourable thing. That you have rid this planet of their leeching scum!!!"   
  


Polonius clears his throat, "You are dismissed. Please report to your battle stations at two hundred sharp. At ease."   
  


The soldiers chatter amongst each other as they dismiss.   
  


Polonius leaves the podium, smiling... Inside though, he is worried. He has a very bad feeling about the impending battle. The strong good presence in the force had vanished two nights ago. He knows that, but he doesn't know that Wolff and Kepla had already started their journey back with a five hundred strong army. 

* * *


	7. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# The Outsiders, The Forgotten

******Chapters 38 - 41**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 38 : Saving The Mine Workers   
  


A haze of black dust drifts across the mine entrance. An army of gungans march in and out.   
  


Their skins hard from the blazing sun, their faces black with soot. Their clothes are tattered and some of their ears are distastefully cut off short.   
  


Five guards stand watching over them, rifles poised.   
  


This has been the sad reality of the gungans on this planet of blood and tears... Day in, day out they work like this... Their food rations are far from sufficient and they get just enough water to stay alive.   
  


Some of the weaker ones lay moaning in the dirt, their dead-tired bodies quivering for rest and water. Some of them might as well be dead. The guards overlooking, simply ignore this, woefully unconcerned at their suffering. They get their pay checks at the end of the day, they don't have a worry in the world.   
  


The gungans carry old-fashioned picks in their frail arms, as they push and pull carts full of oar from the gaping mine entrance. Their eyes flicker no more, because they have lost all hope of freedom.   
  


Suddenly, there is a scuffle. The guards swing around, one of them fires a shot. A flock of stinging darts alleviate them from their posts. Twenty one dark gungans dressed in black armour jump down off of the high wall surrounding the mine shaft and land with the grace of a cat.   
  


The surprised miners look up from their misery. They stare in disbelief.   
  


The gwand fawces is an elite group of gungan soldiers, specially selected and pain-stakenly trained to handle amongst the toughest of situations. To the miners, they are little more that a myth, just like the gungan city in the woods, a "gwand bombad pie in desan sky".   
  


Commander Baywal shows them to keep quiet and beckons them to come closer.   
  


"Listen! Yous be keepin quiet... If desa be harin as... Dey keel us!"   
  


The dirty miners stand staring at them, their arms at hand at their sides. Some of them have already downed their tools.   
  


Baywal looks around and continues, "Wesa be taking wesa fweedom back today... Yous be folowin wesan, okey-dey?"   
  


The miners whisper amongst each other. They nod willingly. Baywal looks around and beckons them to follow Aswal Posk, his second in command.   
  


Some of the force members stay behind to alert the workers still down in the shaft.   
  


The force works with military precision. They know exactly what they are to do, without saying a word to each other. Their footsteps are dead-quiet as they lead the miners around the first corner.   
  


Their timing couldn't be better. All of Ndi'Chro's soldiers are gone. As the gungans leave the mine, the soldiers are marching towards to woods. Their mission simple : Massacre all gungans, irrespective of size age of sex.   
  


Baywal's plan is simple and practical ; The best part of the squad is to take the gungans to the safe secret hiding place, whilst he and five other members help infiltrate Ndi'Chro's palace.   
  


He knows that the palace is heavily guarded. They'll wait for Wolff to return before they enter.   
  


Till then, they can do little but sit and patiently hide in wait.   
  


*** 

A squadron of fighters thunder overhead. Baywal looks up from the shade and utters, "Big doodoo... My only be hopin dat Wolff human be bringin desa supawt soon!"   
  


With this, Baywal takes out the radio Wolff had given him. "Disan bein Baywal, yousa be hearin my?"   
  


There is a muffled crackle as Wolff's voice screeches across the high-band radio.   
  


"Rea... Ba... Status Report..."   
  


Baywal replies calmly, "My tinks desa gungans dey be fightin berry soon..."   
  


The radio screeches, "r... a... ten minutes off..."   
  


Baywal quickly warns, "Wolff, mysan correct! Desan palace, dey has dem bombad shields, yousan tell desa pilots desan no be comin nea hea!"   
  


The radio becomes crystal clear as Wolff changes to another wavelength, "Thanks, but as I said, we have no intentions to bomb the place... We're going in on foot. Ready your squad and wait for us near the entrance."   
  


Baywal bites his lip, "Ober an out Wolffe."   
  


"Over and out," the radio replies as more fighters thunder overhead. 

* * *

**Chapter 39 : The Secret Caves**   
  


It is cold and darkened inside the caves. The gungan females, the aged and those too young to fight, sit, stand and lay sombrely under the vast canopy of rock ceiling covering them.   
  


Portable glowing sphere illuminate the rocky walls inside of their safe prison. The cave floor is flat, and very wide. Every family has a decent living space for itself, about five square metres. Several caverns spiral off into the depths of the mountain, but they are unexplored and dangerous. Force members stand duty, keeping them un-intruded.   
  


Some of the very little ones are crying. Somehow, they know that something isn't right here. 

Five special force members stand stationary at the entrance, peering out over the vast wood-scape with farlookseas. The palace sits like a sore on the horizon.   
  


There is a bustle at the door as the exhausted stream of mine workers are lead inside by Aswal and his squad. Excited chattering comes from the crowd, but Aswal speaks out, "Yous be keepin berry quiet hea... If dey find as, wesa all in bombad doodoo!"   
  


The chattering grows muffled, but doesn't stop.   
  


Aswal makes a gesture and the mine workers are then herded off into another cavern. This cruel, but effective measure was decided upon, to keep the noise level down.   
  


Aswal takes a defensive look around and signals the two gungans at the entrance to close the wooden doors. They do as they are instructed.   
  


He turns to the assembled and speaks out, "Pweeze keep quiet, mesa gungans! Is no nice keepin yous like dees, but mesa tinks yous unnerstands wha is happenin. My ask yous, pweeze sta cam. Dersa enough breathie in hea, but desa cabe be gettin berry soggie if yous spake too mach."   
  


Aswal takes a breath and continues, "Wesa be assisten de hurt an injured in desa cabe next to dees. Dersa pool in desa cabe to de right... Isa only faw drinkin. No sweeming."   
  


He continues, "Yous be setlin down now. Wesa be handin out desa munchie rations in about an hour orso... Pweeze use dem sparinly, we don hab too maach."   
  


*** 

Just as gungans below start settling down, a loud thundering tears over the cave.   
  


Some female gungans start crying dearly. They realise, yet again, that their brave husbands are already inside the dark woods, risking their lives for them and their children. They are probably already being stalked by the merciless army of soldiers.   
  


Aswal turns to his second in command and utters, "My no be likin dees... My no like dees ataal!"   
  


His second in command replies, "Faits, mesa boyos, faits. Wesa can do nomor dan wesa already doin... Desa gads, dey may be on Naboo, ba mesa tinks dey protectin us hea today..." 

* * *

**Chapter 40 : The Space Battle**   
  


The Naboo Gamma wing escorts two gigantic carriers, carrying the Naboo soldiers and the eager gungan warriors.   
  


They are finalising their battle plans as they approach the planet, dubbed by Wolff to planet Lyding, meaning prison.   
  


There is a crackling hiss from the high-band radio, "Wolff, this is gamma control."   
  


Wolff takes the boxy microphone in his left hand and replies, "Reading you loud and clear, gamma."   
  


The voice speaks again, "Bogeys approaching us... They are closing in... A squadron of medium fighters... They'll most probably attack the carriers first."   
  


Wolff asks, "How many of them...?"   
  


"About ten, but at this range, it could be more than that."   
  


Wolff thinks for a while and makes up his mind, "Gamma, split into two wings... One wing will keep them busy whilst the rest escort the carriers to bridge atmosphere at... 1224,6554,2311. I'll go with the latter."   
  


There is a brief moment of silence.   
  


"Understood Wolff," the radio replies.   
  


Wolff adds, "Another thing, tell the soldiers, to prepare for immediate confrontation when they touch down. Baywal reports hearing gunshots and explosions from the woods."   
  


Wolff bites his lip, "I just hope were not too late."   
  


A different voice screeches over the radio, "Wolff, this is Commander Tylor from the carrier Olympus..."   
  


"Go ahead commander," Wolff replies.   
  


Taylor asks, "Any changes to the discussed battle plan...?"   
  


Wolff replies sternly, "No change, commander."   
  


The two wings split up. The Javelin, along with three gamma pilots escort the carriers downwards. As they close in on the planet, the primitive radar blinks, showing four enemy fighters approaching.   
  


Kepla sits mesmerised. Wolff quickly turns around and warns, "Kepla, fasten your seat belt... This could get hot."   
  


Kepla quickly does as Wolff ordered him to. Click, click, click, Kepla fastenes the six pointed seat belts on his seat and sits back, holding his breath. Wolff doesn't spare a moment. His capable hands flick several switches on the dashboard. The cockpit lights dim as he switches on the weapons system.   
  


There is a characteristic "wooooiiiiiing..." as the two fly-back generators speed up. The radio crackles and dies. The two powerful discharge pods glow blue with pent up energy. The EM radiation knocks out the radar display and the console dies, too.   
  


The enemy fighters engage.   
  


Red blaster shots fly all over as three Tyrinian Hornets speed past the Javelin. Wolff curses and swings the Javelin into a U-Turn.   
  


Kepla holds his stomach.   
  


An enemy is smoked by the gamma wing pilot.   
  


Wolff pulls the throttle. The Javelin's engines roar as the ship accelerates rapidly and flies close by an enemy. Wolff presses the red firing button.   
  


An immense beam of white energy arcs outward from the Javelin's hull, locking securely onto one of the enemies. The white discharge is blinding as several trillion joules of energy tear across through the void. The enemy fighter absorbs the deadly arc of energy and ignites. It disintegrates in a ball of flames.   
  


The Javelin pulls out, Wolff giving the discharge pods time to repolarise. Another enemy's craft evaporates, dead in front of the Javelin.   
  


Wolff wipes his forehead. A loose blaster shot hits the Javelin's tail wings. There is a violent shudder. Kepla panics, "Wesa hit! Wesa hit!"   
  


"It's only a surface hit, keep cool!"   
  


Wolff is in too deep concentration to explain.   
  


Only one enemy craft remains, it is trying to get a good lock on the carrier to fire a torpedo!   
  


Wolff's eyes widen, "no... noooo.... noooooo..... S***!"   
  


A torpedo leaves the hull of the fighter and charges toward the sitting duck carrier! A gamma pilot rams his ship into the torpedo, causing a horrifying explosion in midair, destroying both the gamma and the enemy craft at once!   
  


The carrier is still in tact.   
  


The enemies fighters are all gone and Wolff switches his radio back on again.   
  


"Gamma, status report...!"   
  


"We lost a pilot... The carriers are still okay... The other bogeys are still fighting the first wing."   
  


Wolff commands, "Prepare to enter atmosphere...!"   
  


"Roger that, over and out." 

* * *

**Chapter 41 : On The Surface**   
  


Quake 2 CD, Track 7 - Rob Zombie   
  


Ndi'Chro's armed troops have already entered the darkening woods. Twigs crack as they enter deeper and deeper into the fray. Their threatening rifles at the ready.   
  


*** 

A commander of a small squadron lifts his hand, signalling his men to stop. "Ready a cartridge!" He shouts.   
  


"Yes, sir!"   
  


A soldier readies a gas canister and slips it into the launcher. The other put on their gas masks.   
  


The commander's order is muffled by the mask as he shouts, "Fire at will!"   
  


The soldier prepares to fire... Suddenly gungans pop up from the woods and pepper the soldiers with darts and stones.   
  


There is an immense scuffle and shouting. Some soldiers are hit. Some's armour absorb the darts, allowing them to return fire. Their em rifles bark as they burn loose on the gungans.   
  


Five unfortunate gungans are savagely shot trough their heads and through their frail chests. They yelp in agony and fall torn apart.   
  


The rest manage to retreat into the woods, reloading their blowpipes. The soldier with the grenade launcher is still going strong. He takes a quick aim and fire at the gungans. The cartridge leaps out and explodes. Pepper gas clouds the area.   
  


The gungans cannot breathe!   
  


They stumble around and run from their cover. Cruel EM slugs tear out, killing every last one of them.   
  


The squad promptly marches on, leaving to crippled gungan bodies to bleed.   
  


*** 

In a different part of the jungle, terrifying screams and shooting can be heard. A group of soldiers jog along a cleared path. Suddenly the ground gives in beneath their feet! They fall into an deep hole. They shout as gungans jump from the woods and throw rocks onto them. Some return fire, but in vein.   
  


*** 

There is a loud thundering as the two Naboo carriers move over head. Ndi'Chro's soldiers peer up in disbelief.   
  


A general looks up curses, "What the f*** is this?!"   
  


He peers up through the canopy of trees. Staring has made him drop his guard. Two darts bite into his neck. He cries muffly as the poison kicks in.   
  


A commando of gungans appear from the woods. In the passing, one of them impulsively drops his blowpipe and eagerly grabs the general's rifle. He smiles as he moves off into the woods, signalling the rest to follow him.   
  


"What the hell is going on there general?!" Ndi'Chro's angry voice screeches across the fallen radio.   
  


"Answer me d*****! What the hell is going on there!?"   
  


One of the back gungans cannot resist the temptation and picks up the radio. He remarks sarcastically, "Wesa gungans takin ober...! Okey-de?"   
  


The gungan doesn't give him a chance to reply. He smashes the radio on a rock and runs off into the woods, trying to catch up with his comrades.   
  


***   
  


Cross Fade Music to - Quake 2 CD, Track 9 - Rob Zombie   
  


Hundreds of gungans soldiers stand in eager anticipation inside the carrier as the big drop doors open. They all have atlatls and packs tied at their backs and over their shoulders.   
  


The gunshots below them are vague with the roar of the carrier's engines. A gungan general shouts a command, "Gungans... DEPWOY!" showing them towards the gaping hull.   
  


Swiftly, row upon row of gungan warriors dive into the open air! Dropping a couple of hundred metres, they open their cloth paragliders.   
  


Hundreds of gungan and Naboo troops paraglide downwards into the fray.   
  


The gungan gliders are ultra tough, but have the same distinctive organic look to them as all the other gungan utilities of war. Rugged bulging bags of tough cloth stretch suspended upon four ropes tied around each of their bodies.   
  


The Naboo paratroopers soon follow.   
  


From the ground , it's a breath taking sight to see all the gungan and Naboo soldiers gracefully drifting downwards. Six hundred troops descend onto the jungle... A far from warming sight for Ndi'Chro's men, though. The tables have turned against them, big time.   
  


*** 

Tarpals looks up and shouts at Jar Jar, "Yook! Ja Ja! Desa gungans! Desa comin to hep as!"   
  


Just as a group of troops appear from the woods and start firing at Tarpals and his comrades. 

Two of them are shot dead, but he and Jar Jar manage to duck down behind trees. There is sporadic blaster fire as a squad of Naboo paratroopers take the soldiers by surprise.   
  


The powerful blaster shots fry Nd'Chro's men on the spot. Their armour not designed to take that kind of punch.   
  


The Naboo general signals his men to enter the woods. "You! Gungans, follow us!"   
  


Jar Jar and Tarpals quickly jump to his feet, reloading their blowpipes and following the Naboo soldiers.   
  


*** 

A gungan's paraglider goes up in smoke as it is hit by flare. The gungan falls with a terrifying scream, "WAAAAAAAAAaaaa!"   
  


A startled enemy troop looks up, and involuntarily breaks the gungan's fall. "Crunch." The gungan doesn't spare a moment after landing and swings his atlatl from his shoulder.   
  


He throws an energy ball one at an un-expecting troop standing near by. The energy ball hits. The em rifle explodes in his hands!   
  


The gungan is thrown backwards, but lands safely on his behind, "Blblbl! My gwand lucky today!" He dust himself and runs off into the woods while loading a new energy ball into his atlatl.   
  


*** 

The fighting continues furiously. Gunshots. Blaster-fire. Explosions are heard all over as Ndi'Chro's soldiers slowly lose the battle. 

**

* * *

**


	8. Default Chapter Title

* * *

# The Outsiders, The Forgotten

******Chapters 42 - End**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 42 : Ndi'Chro's Palace   
  


Wolff and Kepla sneak up to the palace gate, carefully, followed closely by commander Baywal and his five squad members. Wolff shows them to stop and takes a firm grip on his R1.   
  


He take an aim at the six terrified guards standing duty at the entrance. Ten rapid shots roar from the rifle, perforating the six guards into a sick pile of bloody corpses.   
  


The spent cartridges tink as they hit the pavement.   
  


Kepla is utterly sickened by this. He had never seen a projectile weapon hit real flesh and blood before. He shakes his head. Then, he refocuses on the situation at hand, patting his pocket to grasp his sabre.   
  


Wolff orders, "Get back!"   
  


He readies a C4 cartridge from his side pack and throws it at the entrance. The gungans duck down. The ground trembles as the wooden door is shred to confetti by the cartridge. Wolff clips another magazine into his gun. "Clap!"   
  


Wolff has another C4 stick grenade ready, and a C7 grenade, with which he hopes to level Ndi'Chro's palace, once they clear it out.   
  


He turns and orders, "Baywal, you and the other clean out the place... We are going to look for those siths!"   
  


"Okey!"   
  


With this they swiftly deploy into the palace. Wolff's rifle rattles as he takes out more guards inside. The primitive steel tipped bullets rip through their armour.   
  


Kepla keeps a safe cover. One of the other gungans are killed, shortly before the troop is sniped by Baywal himself. With military precision, the gungans split up and each run their separate way. Wolff and Kepla, guided by the force, continue straight ahead.   
  


A blazing slug tears across the passage. Kepla ducts out of the way. Wolff dives and drops the sniper's with a single burst through his forhead. The spent cartridge tinks as it hits the marble floor.   
  


Fade Out Music   
  


***   
  


"ALAWAY! POLONIUS! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!???!!" Ndi'Chro shouts angrily.   
  


He curses the two siths as they stand staring, haplessly at the re-enforced doorway. One after the other gunshots bursts from the long passage behind it.   
  


Hollow voice echos, "Ready... CLEAR!"   
  


The two guards on the inside of the door look around nervously.   
  


Darth Alaway and Polonius stare helpless as ever. A couple of tense moments pass. Then Alaway shouts, "GET DOWN!"   
  


Polonius throws himself to the floor as a terrifying explosion rips the re-enforced door out of it's sockets. Schrapnel fly all over the room and Ndi'Chro escapes with his life, ducking down behind his desk.   
  


The two guards at the door are thrown off of their feet. One of them are killed immediately. 

The other lays agonising on the floor. A thick haze of smoke pours in from the busted door. The entire floor is littered with pieces of glowing metal.   
  


Alaway and Polonius rise quickly, reaching for their light sabres.   
  


Two figures approach through the smoke. A human and a gungan. Wolff and Kepla walk swiftly, approaching the two siths, now standing in wait.   
  


The two ignite their light sabres at once, "Bzzz!"   
  


Wolff drops his R1 on the floor. "Clap." It's of no use against a sith. Instead, he reaches for his cathode sabre at his side.   
  


As one, Wolff and Kepla ignite their sabres. Two magnificent arcs of yellow-white energy burst from their sabres, as they ready to battle.   
  


Alaway dashes forward. His sabre meeting Kepla's in midair.   
  


Wolff steps out of the way and walks towards Darth Polonius. Polonius tries to intimidate Wolff by saying, "By my blood! You are going to die, Jedi!"   
  


Industrial Revolution Part 2 & 3 - Jean Michel Jarre   
  


Wolff replies sternly, "You are a ghastly traitor. A traitor, even to the low, low organisation you belong to... If anyone deserves to die, it's you!"   
  


Wolff shows his teeth in anger.   
  


Polonius is aggravated by Wolff's insult. He rushes forward and tries to impale Wolff. There is a clash of light as the cathode sabre wipes the light sabre out of the way... Wolff and Polonius engage in a furious battle too.   
  


Ndi'Chro sits staring. He is too cowardice to interfere... He watches the four beings of the force show their steel, his heart racing... Deep down inside he knows that he had already lost the battle.   
  


Kepla is giving Alaway pure hell. Wolff and Polonius are equally matched and fight furiously.   
  


Sabre clashes against sabre as the four fight furiously for more than ten minutes on end.   
  


The injured guard laying at the door crawls towards his rifle. He progresses slowly and periodically drops to the floor, moaning.   
  


Alaway has become highly agitated and yells, "DIE GUNGAN FREAK!" He swiftly leaps at Kepla using the force. Kepla anticipates this and ducts down, rolling out of the way. Alaway passes cleanly over him. Kepla jumps to his feet and throws Alaway using the force. Alaway trips and falls to the floor, hard. Kepla readies himself as Alaway jumps to his feet, his nose now bleeding.   
  


Kepla sees an opening in Alaways defence and stabs. Alaway groans as the cathode sabre bites into his stomach. He takes a couple of steps back, but doesn't fall. Alaway is tough. He isn't going to let a little flesh wound keep him from fighting.   
  


Kepla stays cool and controlled throughout the battle as he had been taught. Alaway is now bleeding at the mouth too and fighting more aggressively than ever.   
  


Kepla swings one last time.   
  


Alaway jerks as Kepla's cathode cuts him across the chest. He stutters and jerks again as Kepla pulls the sabre away. Alaway falls down into a miserable pile burning on the ground.   
  


He immediately turns towards Wolff, where both he and Polonius are having a tough time, both are tired out.   
  


Wolff sees an opening and throws a kick at Polonius. His heavy boot lands squarely on his chest. Polonius losses his wind and falls backwards.   
  


The injured guard laying to one side lifts his rifle upon high and fires blindly. The force throws Kepla into a leopard crawl. A shimmering white bolt tears across the room, missing Kepla's head with a couple of millimetres. Darth Polonius' spine snaps like a match as the slug hits it with a sick, crunching sound.   
  


Wolff didn't anticipate this and jumps aside Polonius' falling corpse. The guard curses coughing up blood, he reloads. He lifts his rifle and another shot tears out.   
  


Kepla's eyes widen. The slug punches a hole though Wolff's chest!!! Kepla cries out. Wolff groans as he falls to his knees, severely bleeding by the mouth!   
  


Kepla's shrill voice echos down the passage. Wolff drops, jerking and coughing... his sabre falls from his hands and dies in a rain of sparks.   
  


The dying guard grins evilly as he reloads his gun. He is going to kill Kepla, too.   
  


There is a scuffle in the passage as the other gungans come rushing in. They swiftly overpower the soldier and slit his throat.   
  


Ndi'Chro grabs a rifle from under his desk. He jumps up and rushes towards Wolff's body. He reaches it before Kepla does. He has an evil grin on his face as he stands triumphantly, a powerful blaster rifle in his right hand.   
  


Kepla freezes in blind rage, his blazing sabre frozen in his right hand.   
  


Baywal stands watching. Kepla is frozen with an expression of hatred on his face, as he peers helplessly at dying Wolff at the feet of Baron Ndi'Chro.   
  


Wolff's body jerks vigorously and then lies still.   
  


Kepla lowers his sabre and cries again, in grave desperation, "WOOOLFFFFF!!! NOOOOOOOO!!! WAAAAAAAAAH!!!"   
  


Kepla's eyes shoot full of tears. Every muscle in his body twitches as he readies to tear Ndi'Chro apart. Ndi'Chro lifts his rifle head-high.   
  


Kepla dashes forward, but is stopped short. He turns cold as Wolff's angry voice echos abruptly through his mind, "RUN, KEPLA! Forget about me! Get out of this place... NOW!!!"   
  


Shattered and panic-stricken, he doesn't argue. He turns and stutters, "...RUN... YOUS RUN!"   
  


The other gungans don't argue. They all run down the hazy passage, tattered with shrapnel.   
  


Ndi'Chro's face drops in disappointment. He fires a couple of blind shots at them... but he is a terrible shot and misses.   
  


Wolff lays on his stomach, in a pool of blood. His heart no longer beats and he has stopped breathing, too. He is holding on to his last breath, as if saving it for something important.   
  


Ndi'Chro throws the gun down and cups his hands. He curses after the gungans, "Yeah! Run! Worthless s***! Run! Get the hell out of my palace!"   
  


He turns towards Wolff and kicks him in the side. Wolff squirms, but doesn't let go of his last breath, yet.   
  


"So, how does it feel like? Is it nice... DYING? HA!"   
  


Ndi'Chro dusts his pants. He seems reassured as he continues angrily, "You have ruined my g****** operation, but I'm still alive. I'm going to flee this dump... The Republic will never catch me alive."   
  


His face churns with hatred as he ads, "I _will_ slaughter every f***** gungan in this f****** universe!!! Even if that is the last b***** thing I do!!!"   
  


Ndi'Chro ads hastily, "Good bye, you piece of s***!"   
  


He rolls Wolff's body over with his right shoe.   
  


Wolff seems to smile as his lifeless body rolls over. "Click..."   
  


The menacing C7 cartridge rolls out of his cold left hand. It hits the floor with a tink.   
  


The firing pin is strung around his right forefinger. A nasty trick he had learned in the EDF trenches.   
  


Ndi'Chro's mouth stretches open. He readies to scream. There is nothing he can do now. He is going to die... with Wolff... Period.   
  


"A....." but he doesn't finish is sentence. The ground trembles as the entire room is smothered in white-hot flames and a cloud of shrapnel.   
  


The flames rush out the door and down the passage. The lush tapestries and portraits turn to ashes. Windows shatter and stones rain down from the ceiling.   
  


The running group of gungans barely exit the palace when the energy of the blast reaches them too. The gungans are thrown off of their feet and onto the lush green grass below the staircase. They get up and run further. The palace rocks and trembles. The ceiling crumbles and rains down into to shaken walls. Shattering glass orchestrates the deafening rumble.   
  


The shaking continues for a couple of minutes and then dies away in an instant. A deafening silence ascends onto the surroundings as the last aftershocks echo across the barren planes beyond the palace... Then come the fires.   
  


Poor Kepla lies in shock. He is passed out cold. The other gungans have sad expressions of their faces. They look sympathetically at Kepla's body.   
  


Baywal sighs, "Huuu..." He shuts his eyes and shake his head in bewildered disbelief. He had never seen such carnage in his life. He is still trying to get a grip on himself.   
  


He makes a gesture and the four gungans pick Kepla up and carry him off. To their backs, the once magnificent marble palace burns in a cloud of thick black smoke. In the distance, they hear cheering and shouting... Ndi'Chro's army had been eradicated.   
  


Wait for Music To Stop

* * *

**Chapter 43 : After the Battle**   
  


The entire operation had been rooted out. Ndi'Chro's empire has been crushed... He himself had died the death of a coward. The Naboo royal guard and the triumphant gungans savour their decisive victory over his army.   
  


The day is far from joyous, though. One hundred and fifty gungan warriors were killed... Five Naboo soldiers lost their lives. Kepla, above all, is devastated.   
  


He sits sobbing on a makeshift bed in a small bunker. Jar Jar, Tarpals and Ceel sits grieving with him, trying to cheer him up. Jar Jar is crying bitterly too.   
  


"sob Desa... no... be... happen... in...!" Kepla stutters, agonising for the hundredth time in the last hour.   
  


Jar Jar sympathetically folds his right arm around his son's neck. "hesa bein goot friend, boyos..."   
  


Kepla looks up at Jar Jar. His deep cyan eyes swollen with tears. They roll down the side of his cheek. A large wet stain sits on his brown jacket's right shoulder.   
  


Tarpals comments sympathetically, "Wesa all be losin a bear friend... Bombad! Wesa be owen wesa freedom to his!"   
  


Ceel sits watching. This is the first time ever that he had been upset by the death of a human being. He isn't very emotional and doesn't cry like the other, but inside, he feels sad too.   
  


Kepla start crying bitterly again. Jar Jar holds him tight in an embrace of love and affection, for that is all he can do... Only time can heal wounds of the heart.   
  


*** 

The sobbing and crying is heard from outside the bunker as well. Naboo troops glance, longingly, as they and gungans carry their injured and killed on stretchers to the makeshift hospital in the clearing.   
  


It's going to take two more days for the carriers to reach the planet. Till then, everybody has to sit and patiently await. 

* * *

**Chapter 44 : Final Appearance**   
  


Metallic Rain - Vangelis   
  


It's early morning and a dim haze drifts over the palace ruins. Here and there, something still lays burning. Kepla strides through the rubble, evading sharp pointy pieces of glass and bent steel.   
  


He had walked all the way from the gungan city, to grieve in peace, and to look for anything still left of his master Wolff. His heart is shattered. The young gungan had never felt this bad in his entire life. He cried his heart out for the last twelve hours, he hasn't slept, nor eaten and his tears have only momentarily dried up.   
  


He walks between the fallen walls... A jet of water spouts from a ruptured pipe. He passes through a fallen arch and enters the room he remembers the fight had taken place in.   
  


He pushes a couple of rocks aside... Indeed, this is the room.   
  


His foot strikes something cold. Kepla crouches down. It's a molten, blown apart cathode sabre. Kepla, in all honesty, didn't expect to find anything. He knows very well that the a C7 cartridge produces enough heat to evaporate ceramic.   
  


He sighs as he sits down amidst the rubble. The time to make peace with Wolff's demise has now arrived.   
  


"Kepla Binks," Wolff's unmistakable voice echos through the rubble.   
  


Kepla is dumb stuck but his face turns angry, "No! My hearin tings!"   
  


He feels mocked by this. He shuts his eyes and cover his haillu with his hands.   
  


Kepla feels a convergence in the force. He then raises his head, slowly opening his eyes.   
  


Wolff's glowing visage stands close by. He is smiling and has a youthful look on his face.   
  


Kepla had never seen Wolff looking like this... Indeed, it is Wolff in the prime of his life. He is unarmed and dressed in civilian clothing. His hair is dark and lush. He holds an inviting hand out to Kepla, asking him to stand.   
  


Kepla's quickly jumps to his feet, "Wolffe? Masta Wolffe? Is des bein yous?"   
  


Wolff drops his hand and speaks, "Sadly, this is only a visual incantation Kepla. Eghbar Tenacious Wolff is dead. Look around you... Nobody can survive such a blast."   
  


Kepla doesn't understand this and asks, "Wha?"   
  


Wolff smiles longingly, "I am only here for a short while, Kepla... I've seen your grief and have come to tell you what you need to know, to carry on with your life."   
  


Kepla sighs, "Bombad! Yous say yousa be goin again?"   
  


"I am one with the force now, Kepla. I am not from here any more... I have no right to be here."   
  


Wolff seems a little nostalgic, "...been nice living here. True, it was hard at times... I honestly think I'm better off now."   
  


Kepla's hope that flamed so high drops in an instant. He sighs, "Huuu...." as he sits down on the floor again.   
  


Wolff sees this and continues, "I'll always be with you Kepla... I'll be there, in your heart. I'll watch over you, all the time, every step of the way."   
  


Kepla pleats in grave desperation, "Pweeze, let my come wit yous...?"   
  


Wolff replies sternly and instructively, "You only live once, Kepla. You must make the best of it. Besides, your destiny has not been fulfilled yet. You are only at the beginning of your long journey through life."   
  


Wolff ads as an afterthought, "Also, don't forget about your father. You mean everything in the world to him. He would like nothing more than to see you flourish."   
  


As if by chance, somebody approaches through the rubble. It's Jar Jar. He calls, searching, "Keplo? Were are yous?"   
  


Kepla replies somberly, "My bein here, dadyos."   
  


Jar Jar's long face straightens slightly as he stares at Wolff's glowing visage, "Hello, Jar Jar... Glad to see you too."   
  


Jar Jar walk up to him and reaches out. His greasy hand goes straight through Wolff's. He sighs, "Des berry strange..." and greets carefully, "Hellosa... Wolffe?"   
  


He then walks up to his son and sympathetically puts his right hand on Kepla's left shoulder. 

He turns, and stares longingly at Wolff's glowing visage.   
  


Wolff continues to speak to both of them, "My time running out, I'll have to be brief."   
  


He looks at Jar Jar and starts, "Jar Jar, you've been a great friend... I really should have spent more time getting to know you. It's been a great honour sharing both good and bad times with you. Please take good care of Kepla for me."   
  


Jar Jar replies, "Tankyous Wolffe... Yous bein goot mooie mooie friend to my too, yous eben bringin back mesa boyo... Bombad! My be neber, neber forgeetin yous."   
  


His face drops as he wipes a cold tear from his left eye.   
  


Wolff looks at Kepla and smiles, "Kepla, you embody everything I thought I would never have. You were a son, an apprentice, a companion. Know that I admire you in a way in which I've never been admired in my life. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend."   
  


Wolff pauses and continues, "You do your father's good name proud. Of all the thousand places I could have died, I feel honoured to have died by your side, helping your gungans take back their freedom."   
  


Kepla starts sobbing dearly again, but this time, not of sorrow and grief, but in gratitude. He now knows that he has meant something to Wolff, too.   
  


Wolff's face turns serious as he warns both of them, "Dark times lie ahead... Not only for you, but for everyone in this galaxy. Be true to your hearts, be mindful, and may the force guide you on your way."   
  


Wolff pauses briefly and greets, "Good bye you two... Please send my regards to the other."   
  


He ads, almost as an afterthought, "...As a last request; please empty my bunker and inform Ikopia of my death."   
  


Wolff then waves for one last time. He turns around and walks as his visage dissolves into the haze...   
  


Jar Jar and Kepla remain staring until he had completely vanished.   
  


Both of them feel a little better now. At least they know that Wolff is still alive, somewhere. Even if it is just in their hearts. From there, no cruelty can take him away from them.   
  


Kepla and Jar Jar embrace each other with endearing, loving, caring empathy one more time. 

Wolff had been such an important part of their lives... Now, they have to continue on their own.   
  


Kepla speaks out, "My luvs you daddyo... Eben ef my be losin mesa friend, my be havin yous. Yous be menin desa wald to my."   
  


Jar Jar replies, "My luvs you too, boyos... Wesa bein berry gwand lucky to be habin eacheather."   
  


Jar Jar pauses and looks his son in the eyes. He smiles as he tries to cheer him up, "Keplo, desa troubles, dey are ober now. Wha my be sayin? Yous and my spake bout desa goot tings in life... Hmm? Wesan be leabin desa bombad place, yous seein yousa homwarld soon."   
  


Kepla looks up at Jar Jar. The two gungans smile longingly at each other before they start walking out of the rubble and start making their ways towards the gungan city.   
  


Large Naboo air force carriers, escorted by Naboo fighter craft thunder overhead. They are to take the liberated gungans and proud Naboo soldiers home.   
  


**THE END**

(To be Continued) 


End file.
